Beneath the Stagnant Sky

CHAPTER VIII

ECHOES OF DENIAL

The drive back to Eli's house was unusually quiet. Neither of them spoke, the weight of the night still lingering between them. The car engine hummed softly, the only sound filling the silence.

Caelum kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift. His thoughts were in disarray—unwelcome, unfamiliar thoughts that he refused to acknowledge. He glanced at Eli through the corner of his eye. She was staring out the window, her fingers lightly tracing the cool glass. Her reflection flickered under the passing streetlights, lost in thought.

What was she thinking?

The moment the car came to a full stop in front of her house, Eli wasted no time. She unclasped her seatbelt, opened the door, and hurried out without so much as a goodbye.

Caelum blinked. "You're welcome, I guess," he muttered under his breath, watching as she disappeared inside.

Eli, on the other hand, felt her heart pounding the moment she shut her bedroom door behind her. She pressed her back against the wooden surface, exhaling deeply.

What was that?

She had spent the entire evening basking in the simple joy of being out at night for the first time—stargazing, feeling the cool air against her skin, laughing at Caelum's occasional dry humor. And yet, the moment they got back, an odd sensation took over her chest, something warm and unfamiliar.

Annoying.

Eli shook her head and pushed herself off the door. She wasn't going to dwell on this. It was nothing. It had to be nothing.

Meanwhile, outside, Caelum lingered in his car for a few moments longer than necessary. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, brows furrowed.

Why did her abrupt exit bother him?

It shouldn't.

And yet, here he was, staring at her house like a fool.

With a deep sigh, he finally started the car and drove away.

>>

Caelum drove aimlessly through the dimly lit streets, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other drummed against his thigh. The night air seeped in through the barely open window, cool against his skin, but it did nothing to ease the restlessness brewing inside him.

He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. What the hell is wrong with me?

He had spent countless nights under the sky, watching the stars alone, yet somehow, tonight felt different. Uncomfortably so. The memory of Eli—her quiet awe, the way her eyes reflected the constellations above, the soft smile that tugged at her lips—kept replaying in his mind like a song he couldn't turn off.

And that bothered him.

This wasn't supposed to feel like anything.

When he was with Amara, things had been simple. It was warmth, something steady—something familiar. He knew what she meant to him, knew the way she fit into his world, and knew exactly why he needed to push her away. Amara had been his light in the suffocating dark, but she had also been a reminder of everything he could never have. That love was an impossible dream for someone like him.

But Eli?

Eli was unpredictable. She had sharp edges, yet she was soft in the ways that mattered. She was guarded, yet vulnerable in a way she didn't even realize. She wasn't supposed to be important, wasn't supposed to make him pause. And yet, she had—over and over again.

Caelum let out a frustrated sigh and abruptly turned the wheel, pulling into a nearly deserted convenience store parking lot. He needed a distraction. Something, anything to pull him out of this ridiculous state.

With his hands stuffed into his pockets, he pushed through the glass doors, the chime above ringing as he stepped inside. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting an almost sterile glow over the rows of instant noodles, canned goods, and cheap beer. He grabbed a drink from the refrigerator, barely paying attention to what it was, and made his way to the counter.

The cashier, a bored-looking guy with dark circles under his eyes, barely glanced up as he scanned the item.

"Rough night?" the guy asked, his voice flat, uninterested.

Caelum let out a short, dry laugh. "Something like that."

He paid and walked back to his car, cracking open the drink before leaning against the hood. He tipped his head back, staring up at the same stars he had gazed at just hours ago with Eli.

This is stupid.

He was Caelum—he didn't get distracted. He had a purpose, a goal, a curse to break. Whatever this was... it was nothing.

And yet, as he closed his eyes and exhaled, all he could see was Eli's face—her eyes full of wonder beneath the starlit sky.

With a final scoff, he downed his drink, tossed the empty can into the car, and got in. He needed to remind himself why he was here, why he had chosen Eli in the first place.

Because it wasn't about her.

It couldn't be.

>>

It had been over a week since Eli had last seen Caelum. The days had passed in a blur of coffee orders, friendly chatter, and the rhythmic sound of the espresso machine. Yet, no matter how busy she kept herself, she couldn't forget that night under the stars.

Where had he gone? Was he okay? The thoughts gnawed at the back of her mind, and she hated it. Why did it bother her so much? She barely knew him. He was just some wish-granter, not someone she should be worrying about.

With a sigh, Eli pulled on her cap and apron, brushing the thoughts away. She had work to do.

Meanwhile, Caelum sat in a quiet café across town, fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee he hadn't even touched. He had been avoiding Maeve's Corner—avoiding Eli. Being around her was... distracting. And distractions were dangerous.

He reminded himself why he was doing this. Why he sought out a wish-bearer in the first place.

Amara.

The name alone was enough to make his chest tighten. She had been his light, his reason for wanting to be free of this curse. Everything he had done—choosing Eli, waiting patiently for her to make her wishes—it was all for the chance to have a normal life with Amara. To be with her again.

And yet, that night under the stars with Eli had unsettled him. It was the first time in years that he had felt something outside of his goal. The way she had smiled at the sky, her eyes reflecting the constellations above, the way she had laughed freely for the first time—why had he noticed all of that?

No. It didn't matter. He was only feeling this way because Eli was his wish-bearer. Nothing more. His focus should remain on Amara, the one person he truly loved. The one person who had waited for him.

And as if the universe was testing his resolve, the bell above the café door chimed, and in walked Amara Del Valle.

Caelum stiffened as she approached, her presence as captivating as ever. She had been gone for three years, and yet, she still held that effortless grace. That quiet power in the way she carried herself.

"Caelum," she greeted with a small smirk, sliding into the seat across from him. "It's been a while."

His heart pounded in his chest, the memories flooding back. This was what he wanted. This was who he wanted.

Wasn't it?

***