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She doesn’t talk anymore, and keeps staring at everything we pass by. I wonder why she’s always so quiet about her life. Why can't she find sleep? Why is she always in high places and looking calmer?

When we reach the shore, the wind hits first. We get out and she closes her eyes for a second, like she’s appreciating the smell of salty water and the cold air. Her hair is already a mess, her cheeks are turning red.

“Cold?” I ask as we start walking toward the rocks.

“I like it,” she says. “Funny how we keep meeting outside the academy and still haven’t thought deeply about the case.”

I laugh, because she’s right.

We only went through the same things for days now. I already explained the basic info twice. There was no real reason to keep her near me that much. But I kept finding new reasons to do so, pointless excuses but she always answered them. Hours disappeared in simple conversations, nights turned into our way of communicating when we shouldn’t even look at each other.

She was just… really distracting and I dislike distractions, but every time she’s near me, it’s like she’s erasing numbers from my clocks. And somehow along the way I stopped needing to know what time it was.

Is that what a distraction does? A curious and annoyingly interesting distraction.

“To work well with someone, you need to know them first,” I finally say after regaining composure. Goddamn she’s fucking distracting.

“What do you want to know?” She asks as she settles on one of the larger rocks, tapping on the space next to her so I can sit beside her.

“Why do you want to leave this after the year ends?”

Her eyes get lost as she watches the sunrise. “Because, like you said earlier, just looking at the buildings and the city, I feel angry.”

“And why is that?”

She smiles, leaning toward me and reaching into my pocket again, fingers brushing the fabric before finding the pack. “Let me grab one,” she says. “I’ll need it to talk.”

I put my hands behind my back, letting her take whatever she wants and watch as she lights it, taking a long and deep drag. The smoke curls around her face, softening her features, making her look distant. Sad, maybe. Or just tired.

“Can we share?” I ask.

She smiles again and passes me the cigarette she’s already started. “Second shared cigarette in less than two hours,” she says. “We’re getting close.”

“I noticed,” I reply as I take a drag before giving it back to her.

She keeps her eyes on the dark line where the sea disappears in the horizon. And it’s silent for a few minutes, then I ask, quietly, “Why were you so determined to say no.”

She doesn’t pretend not to know what I mean. “I have to finish this year,” she speaks. “And then I have to leave.”

“I understand that but why?”

“Anywhere that isn’t here would be better.”

I glance at her. “Doesn’t seem like a bad city.”

She exhales smoke slowly and laughs, “It is for some of us.” She looks at me then, searching my face like she’s checking whether I get it or not. “I really need to,” she adds.

“You will,” I reply.

She smiles softly. “Not so sure.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, handing me the cigarette again. “If I keep not sleeping, I’m going to shoot in the wrong direction during a drill one day.”

“Apart from car rides,” I say carefully, “nothing helps you sleep.”

She studies me. “You noticed that?”