By the time I leave, the sky’s bright, the clouds pale against the blue. I think about Gabe back at the shop, about his careful hands tying bows and the way his ears went pink when I told him he was being thoughtful.
I want to know him better. I want him to let me.
I wake up to soft sounds from the living room—muted shuffling and muttering with an occasional sigh. I check the time on my phone, 2:47 a.m.
I get up and pad down the hall. The small lamp on the far side of the room spills a warm pool of light across the floor. Gabe’s sitting cross-legged in front of the bookshelf, which is now empty, surrounded by stacks of books. He looks upset, his movements are agitated as he picks books up and places them in different piles, muttering to himself. His hand moves up to his face, touching his scar before he jerks it away roughly, shaking his head.
“Gabe?” I say, keeping my voice low in the hopes I don’t scare him. It doesn’t work, he jolts and turns wide eyes on me, breathing labored.
“Noah.” My name leaves him in a rush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” There’s a small tremble in his voice when he speaks, and I can’t tell if it’s because something’s upset him or he’s worried I’ll be annoyed he woke me. I don’t like either option.
I sit down near him, matching his position, books between us. “Don’t worry about it. Is everything ok?”
He glances up, then lets out a small breath. “Couldn’t sleep...” He trails off, looking at the books again, then drags his palm down his face. “I’m sorry. This was really inconsiderate, I should know better.”
He’s openly berating himself, and I can’t stand it. He looks so small, so defeated, sitting on the floor. “Hey, it’s okay. Did something happen? Is that why you couldn’t sleep?”
He shakes his head and a sad smile forms on his lips. I don’t want to pry, so I look around, trying to think of something else to say.
My gaze finds a familiar cover among the pile, navy with a gold compass and lettering, and my breath catches.
“No way. You haveThe Wayfarer’s Star?”
He looks at the book, surprised by my reaction. “Yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”
My eyes shoot up to his face. “Really?”
“Mm.” He picks it up, thumb brushing the foil compass on the cover. The gentleness of his caress is like a physical touch; it's as though I can feel his fingers at the top of my spine.
“I read it when I was a teen. Felt like it was written for me, I read it once a year.” That smile finally reaches his eyes now. It’s a small thing, an ember that wants to grow. “It’s a comfort read.”
I stare at him, the low light casting faint shadows on his features. His thumb’s still brushing absently over the cover.
“I didn’t know that.” I exhale.
He nods his head. “Have you read it?”
“Yeah, it’s my favorite,” I admit, heat creeping up my neck. “My copy’s literally falling apart. You… um, you actually gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday.”
For a moment, he just blinks—then a soft, surprised laugh escapes him. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”
My heart sinks a little at the fact that he doesn’t remember giving me something that holds so much meaning for me.
“I didn’t.” The words leave me unbidden as I lean over a little, just close enough to see his copy. It’s obviously been read, but looks practically new compared to mine. “Sven’s compass meant so much to me growing up. I’ve read the book until the pages were loose. I actually got a tattoo of the compass.” I tap the spot where my tattoo is as I say it.
He goes still at that, gaze flicking up to mine.
“I wanted something that reminded me I’d find where I belonged… eventually,” I say quietly with an awkward chuckle. “Even when I didn’t feel like I fit anywhere.”
The room feels smaller suddenly, the air thick between us. I don’t know why I’m being so honest and vulnerable about this, but there’s something about him that makes me want to be open.
That doesn’t change the fact that I feel like I’ve given him a piece of me. Something I’ve kept locked away from everyone else.
Gabe doesn’t say anything for a moment—turning the book in his hands, like he’s seeing it differently now.
“I guess we both needed it,” he says finally, so softly I almost miss it.
I nod, throat tight. “Yeah.”
