Unspoken words

The hallway was a chaotic river of blue school blazers and the sharp, clinical scent of floor wax. Viviane moved through it with a natural, grounded confidence, her dark skin glowing under the hum of the fluorescent lights. She was fast—faster than most of the boys, and definitely faster than the girls in her circle. That was when she felt his gaze. Asher was leaning against a brick pillar, his "white chocolate" skin a pale, striking contrast to the shadows of the corridor. He didn't just look at her; he studied her.

"Hey," he called out, his voice cutting through the noise like a sharp blade. "Are you faster than Kylie?" Viviane stopped, her backpack heavy but her stance steady. She didn't blink as she looked from him to Kylie, who was hovering nearby. "Yeah," she said, her voice dropping into a register of pure honesty. "I am." Asher stepped into her personal space, a small, genuine smirk playing on his lips that made the air in the hallway feel suddenly thin. "And you guys are friends?" he asked, tilting his head. "Yes," she replied. He nodded slowly, as if confirming something he already knew. "Cool. I like your vibe, Viviane." She didn't hesitate: "I like yours, too."

From that moment, they were a single shadow. If you found one, you found the other. They shared a frequency that nobody else could tune into, a "lovely" season where the world felt like it belonged only to them.