Page 126 of All the way home

At first, the dark is all there is.

In front of Zach, Kieran is a silhouette moving down the corridor, stepping softly.

Around the corner, transparent plastic sheets cover the seating area, gauzy drapery obscuring the shape of a power saw. Farther, a window just like the one at their gate stretches from floor to ceiling, soft yellow lights casting a glittering sheen along the frosty pane and illuminating the snowflakes that fall through their glow.

Beyond, the night is an endless void.

Behind the curtain, the scent of sawdust and drywall twine, a sharp blend. With every step, the murmur of the terminal falls away, air contained and quiet, the way snow brings with it a blanket of silence.

Here, in the dark, Kieran seems more at ease. And Zach hadn’t even thought he seemed tense, before. It’s just that now his shoulders are relaxed, and his expression is so serene that, between blinks, he’s settled into a silence that feels more like the version of Kieran that might be real.

“It’s nice in here.” Kieran’s eyes track the falling snow down to the ground. “Quieter.”

“Yeah.” Jitters steal Zach’s hands, his heart, something in his chest doing its best impression of a car antenna snapping back and forth in the wind, so fast it’s a blur. His watch beeps—10 o’clock.

“It’s been almost eleven hours.”

Kieran shoots him a sideways look. “Since?”

“Since we were supposed to take off.”

“Only? It feels like . . .”

“Days,” Zach finishes, before he can think about it, and then self-conscious doubt starts clawing its way up his throat.

“Yeah.” Kieran lets out a breath. “Like days.”

Relief unfurls through him, a slow bloom. “I thought I’d hate it,” Zach admits.

“The delay?”

“Yeah. I thought it’d be unbearable.”

Kieran’s wry smile transforms his whole face, and Zach feels . . .

Zach feels. He feels a little drunk, actually. Maybe it’s just exhaustion, but he doubts it. The warm, heady burn in his fingers and his chest aren’t responding to anything but the cast of Kieran’s face, half-illuminated by the glow of the lights outside.

When he approaches the window and leans his shoulder against the cold glass, Kieran joins him, arms folded with his back against the pane, openly watching.

Rubbing at his jaw, aware of every inch of his body, Zach smiles. “What?”

“You’re . . . something else.”

Zach’s heart stutters. “Is that good?”

“Yeah.” Kieran smiles. “It’s good.”

“Then you’re something else too.”

That smile widens.

“I can’t believe I never met you at school.”

“I can.” Mischief twinkles behind Kieran’s eyes. “You don’t strike me as the sort to start random conversations with strangers.”

“I guess that’s what you’re good for.”

Kieran laughs. “For all we know, I could have been walking by you every day, and I don’t think you’d notice.”