My Enigma

Chapter Thirty-Five

Aurora's POV

Gabe's car rumbled down the hill, the taillights flickering like tiny red eyes in the morning haze. Hanna's hand shot out of the passenger window, flailing in a wild, overenthusiastic wave that screamed "Good luck!" even though she didn't say it aloud. Typical.

I crossed my arms. "They're so dramatic."

Luke was already walking ahead, just far enough to annoy me.

I jogged a few steps to catch up.

"I thought you would ditch me," he said without looking.

"I still might."

He smirked. "Then I guess I better say what I need to say fast, huh?"

I didn't answer. He always did that: pushed with a joke, hoping to slide past the sharp parts. I wasn't going to make this easy. He didn't deserve that.

The sidewalk beneath us was cracked and uneven. A soft breeze ruffled the edge of my hoodie, and the dry rustle of leaves whispered along the curb. It wasn't awkward silence between us, not exactly, but it buzzed, full of things unsaid.

"You gonna keep staring or...?" I started.

"I like your voice," he interrupted, too casually.

I blinked. "Okay...?"

"It's different when you're not arguing."

I gave him a sideways glare. "Is this the part where you charm me into forgetting you've been a complete ass?"

"Nah," he said, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. "That part was earlier. This is just me walking you home."

I stared at him. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

"I think I'm right."

And damn him, I almost smiled.

The rhythm of our steps filled the silence. There was something about walking with someone that made you think too much, maybe because there was nothing else to do but feel them beside you. And with Luke, that presence was heavy in a way that shouldn't have been comforting... but sort of was.

"I am so sorry Rory, I didn't mean to mess things up," he said after a while, his voice lower now.

"Which part? Ignoring me? The sudden mood swings? That delightful habit of pretending I don't exist until it suits you?"

He exhaled sharply. "Yeah. All of it."

"Well, congrats. You nailed it."

That shut him up. His jaw tightened, and he looked away. I expected him to brush it off or throw another line, but he didn't. Just silence again, except now it crackled.

"I was going through stuff," he said finally. "Not that it excuses anything. Just... it wasn't about you."

I stopped walking. "It felt like it was, given how you were in constant communication with everyone else but me."

He turned to face me. His eyes softened just a fraction. "I know."

I hated that. Hated that he looked sincere. Hated that a part of me believed him.

"I don't know what to do with that," I said quietly.

"You don't have to do or say anything. I just... I didn't want to leave it like that."

The wind picked up. I hugged myself, whether from cold or from the way his words made me feel, I wasn't sure.

We kept walking. The street curved a little, winding between tall trees and faded fences. My house was a few blocks ahead. I wasn't ready to reach it.

Luke nudged a pebble with his shoe. "Are you always this hard to talk to?"

"Are you always this bad at apologies?"

That earned me another smirk. "Touché."

There was a pause.

"You're not like other girls," he said.

I groaned. "Ugh. Do not hit me with that line."

"I'm serious."

I glanced at him, unimpressed. "And what am I like then?"

He looked at me like he was trying to put something complicated into words he didn't usually say. "You're like a closed book... but the kind people stay up reading."

I snorted. "Maybe I'm a book that bites."

"Then I'll read carefully."

I hated that my cheeks felt warm.

We walked in silence again, but it wasn't uncomfortable anymore. It was loaded.

"Do you even know me?" I asked suddenly.

He glanced at me, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, really. You say all this stuff like you've figured me out, but we barely talk. When we do, it's either you teasing or me shutting you down."

Luke slowed down a little. "I notice things. You're quiet, but not shy. You say more with one look than most people do in a paragraph. You're loyal. And funny when you let yourself be."

I stared at him. "That's... weirdly specific."

He shrugged. "Told you. I pay attention."

I looked away quickly. Too quickly.

"So then what about you?" I asked, half to change the subject. "What do you want people to notice?"

He didn't answer right away.

"I guess... I don't want to be misunderstood," he said eventually.

That made me pause.

"That's kind of vague."

"I've been vague for months. You think I'm just gonna drop my entire emotional résumé on this walk?"

"You could try."

He laughed. "You'd run."

I didn't disagree because he wasn't wrong.

My house, as did the front lawn and the uneven pavement outside, came into view. The moment ended, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Luke slowed again. "So..."

"So."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not asking for anything. Just... maybe don't hate me."

I exhaled. "I don't hate you, Luke. I just don't trust you."

He nodded, not even offended. "Fair."

There was a beat of silence—one of those tight little pauses where something could happen if someone leaned in or said the wrong thing or the right thing too soon.

"Connor looked like he wanted to murder me, by the way," Luke added, smirking.

I rolled my eyes. "He's just... protective."

"He's jealous."

"Yeah, well, he'll survive."

Luke took a step back. "You're a tough read, Aurora."

I shrugged. "Good. It keeps people from skimming."

His smile was crooked this time. Real.

"See you around?"

"Maybe."

He turned and walked away, hands back in his pockets, the sunset light turning his silhouette gold around the edges. He didn't look back.

And I didn't stop him.

But I stood there a while longer, listening to the fading sound of his steps and wondering what page he'd stopped on.