The city felt quieter that day. Not because it was ~ cars still passed, people still moved, but because Elirys had begun to hear less of it. Or maybe more of herself. She wasn't sure which.
That morning, Hailey had messaged her.
"Art Gallery at the corner of Rosehill and Fifth. No pressure. But if you come, bring your eyes and your silences."
It was the kind of message that made Elirys smile, not for what it said, but for how it said it. There was no pressure in it. No expectation. Just a door she could choose to walk through.
So she did.
The gallery sat like a hidden secret between tall glass buildings, its windows steamed and glowing from within. Elirys stepped inside and was met with warmth ~ of light, of silence, of something softer than peace. The scent of old wood and clean canvas, the hush of careful footsteps. It wrapped around her like a coat.
Hailey was already there, stood near the center, her profile lit by the honeyed sun that spilled through the high windows. She didn't turn, just smiled slightly as Elirys approached.
"You made it," she said.
Elirys nodded. "I wasn't sure I would."
"I wasn't sure you wouldn't."
They walked in silence for a while, side by side but not always in step. There was something comforting in the space between them, like the gallery was big enough to carry both of their ghosts without them crashing into each other. Paintings lined the walls ~ soft, surreal dreamscapes, aching portraits, the blur of colors where emotion and memory met.
Elirys paused before a painting of a girl standing alone in a field of pale blue flowers beneath a sky full of stars and snowfall.
"She reminds me of you," Hailey said beside her.
Elirys tilted her head. "Because she's alone?"
Hailey shook her head. "Because she's waiting. But still glowing."
Elirys didn't answer. She didn't know how to. But something in her softened. They kept walking.
They reached the gallery café, tucked away behind a curtain of ivy and golden light. Hailey ordered two hot chocolates with rose dust on top. It arrived steaming, petals floating like thoughts too tender to say aloud. She handed one to Elirys like it was a gift and not just a drink.
Hailey stirred hers slowly. "I used to think love was supposed to be loud. Fireworks and declarations and grand gestures. But lately…" She paused. "I think love is the quiet decision to stay. To listen. To show up even when you don't know what to say. Letting someone cry and not needing to fix it."
Elirys watched the petals in her cup spin like forgotten memories. She wanted to say I think so too. She wanted to say I'm tired of being misunderstood. But the words didn't rise. They rarely did.
Instead, she whispered, "I like being here. With you."
Hailey looked at her then, not surprised, just soft. "I'm glad. You don't have to say anything else." She smiled like it meant something. Like it mattered.
They sat for a long while, the world beyond the window slowly shifting from amber to blue. By the time they stepped outside, the city had begun to glow. The streets shimmered in puddles of late sunlight, and the air was touched with the smell of dust and day's end.
As they parted at the corner, Hailey paused. "Let's do this again?"
Elirys nodded. Just once. But that one nod felt bigger than all the conversations she'd had in weeks and with a smile, "Yeah. I'd like that."
She walked away slowly, not with the heaviness of usual goodbyes, but with the quiet weight of something beginning.
It wasn't friendship. Not yet. But it was real.
And sometimes, real was enough.