It was Thursday, literature day. Kara was still in her dorm room, lost in thought about her recent conversations with Alice. After taking a shower and getting dressed, she made her way to the cafeteria. Upon arriving, she grabbed her breakfast as usual, until she noticed something unexpected: Alice was sitting alone at a table, no food in front of her, only a book open in her hands.
Kara hesitated, tray in hand, then walked to her usual table where Natalie was already seated. But even as she sat down, her eyes kept drifting back to Alice, hoping she might look up and notice her.
"She's always alone at that table," Kara murmured, almost as if trying to convince herself to do something about it.
"Why don't you go talk to her?" Natalie teased with a smirk.
"I don't think so…" Kara muttered, shaking her head, until she looked up again and saw Alice's eyes finally meeting hers. For a few seconds, they locked gazes, something quiet but intense passing between them. Then Kara made up her mind.
"You know what? I'm going." She stood up, leaving her tray behind, and walked toward Alice's table.
When she arrived, she gave a small, friendly wave.
"Hey, Alice! Mind if I sit here?" she asked in a casual tone.
"Of course, go ahead," Alice replied, her eyes still on her book.
"Not hungry? I noticed you don't have anything. If you want, we can share mine, it's no problem," Kara offered kindly.
"No, thank you. I already ate earlier," Alice replied, her tone polite but distant.
"I see... that's fine." Kara smiled awkwardly, then added, "So, we've got literature later today, right? We're doing paired readings. Maybe we could be partners?"
Alice hesitated. "I don't know. Let's see how the teacher assigns the groups."
"Okay then. See you in class!" Kara said, standing up again and heading back to Natalie's table.
The literature classroom was filled with that quiet reverence that only books could inspire, interrupted occasionally by the low, deep voice of the professor calling out the pairs for the week's assignment.
Alice had already pulled her notebook from her bag, ready to take notes, when she heard her name.
"Alice… you'll be with Kara."
Her eyes lifted slightly, finding the brunette girl two rows ahead. Kara turned around, and for a fleeting moment, Alice felt the weight of a curious, almost searching gaze. Kara smiled softly, just enough to break the tension, and Alice returned it with a small nod.
A few minutes later, they were sitting side by side, arranging papers and books. Alice spoke first.
"So… the professor said we need to choose a work and write a comparative analysis. Do you have anything in mind?"
Kara ran her fingers along the edge of the book on her desk, thoughtful.
"I've always loved Faust by Goethe. That whole thing about human desire and temptation, it fascinates me." She looked up at Alice. "But I'm not sure if that's your kind of book."
Alice smirked slightly, resting her chin on her hand.
"Funny you say that. I like stories that explore the mind, the weight of choices. Crime and Punishment, for instance. Not too different from Faust, if you think about it."
Kara raised a brow, intrigued.
"Dostoevsky, huh? Didn't picture you as the type."
"And why not?" Alice's voice carried a hint of challenge. "I like seeing people destroy themselves through their own thoughts. It feels… real."
Kara studied her for a long second, then smiled softly.
"I admire that. Most people avoid books like that, they prefer easier stories. But you seem to like diving deep."
"And you," Alice countered, lips curling into a faint smile, "seem to enjoy making deals with the devil."
That earned a low laugh from Kara.
After a comfortable pause, Kara pulled out her worn copy of Faust.
"Want to read a passage? I'll show you my favorite part."
Alice took the book, feeling the rough texture of the old cover. She read aloud, her voice calm and clear, and Kara watched her intently, as if every word was less about Goethe and more about Alice herself. When Alice finished, she looked up.
"There's an intensity here I understand. This conflict… it's almost too human."
"Exactly," Kara replied softly. "That's why I love it."
Then Alice took out her own book, a well-marked copy of Crime and Punishment, and placed it in front of Kara.
"Your turn. Let's see if you understand why I like this one."
Kara flipped through the pages until she found a passage Alice had underlined. Her voice was firm but full of controlled emotion, as if she was feeling every line she read. Alice watched her quietly, not for the reading itself, but for the way Kara seemed to change as she spoke.
When she finished, Alice gave a small, approving smile.
"Looks like we might make a good team after all."
Kara closed the book gently and met her eyes.
"I think so too."
The professor's voice broke through the room again, closing his own book with a sharp thud.
"All right, everyone. For next week, I want each pair to bring me a comparative analysis of the works discussed today. Remember, don't just tell me what the authors say, but how they say it. Understood?"
A murmur filled the room as students began packing their things. Alice was still scribbling quick notes in the corner of her notebook, her mind clearly racing. Kara closed her book more slowly, fingers brushing over the worn cover.
"Looks like we've got some work ahead of us," Kara said with a faint smile.
Alice glanced up, surprised by her easy tone.
"Yes… but it's the kind of work I don't mind. I like spending time on this kind of analysis."
Kara rested her chin on her hand, her eyes curious.
"Spending time or earning time? Depends on how you see it."
Alice chuckled quietly, the first genuine laugh Kara had heard from her.
"Okay, you're right. Earning time."
The bell rang, filling the room with the sound of scraping chairs and hurried footsteps. Most students rushed out, but Kara and Alice lingered, taking their time to gather their books. The air between them felt different now, something new, fragile, but promising.
"So…" Kara began, slinging her backpack over one shoulder, "you prefer philosophical authors, right? But you also like poetry?"
"I do." Alice tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I like writing that makes you think and feel at the same time. What about you?"
"I like when literature slips out of my hands," Kara replied with a small grin. "When I think I've understood it, and then realize I haven't understood anything at all."
Alice narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued.
"That's… a peculiar way to see it. But I get it."
They walked together toward the door, the hallway already echoing with the noise of other students. Before they left, Kara lightly caught the strap of Alice's bag, almost without thinking.
"Hey… what do you say we meet at the library later? We can start the analysis together."
Alice looked at her, momentarily surprised by the invitation. There was something in Kara's eyes, genuine, yet tinged with quiet curiosity. After a pause, she gave a small, hesitant smile.
"All right. See you later, then."
As they walked side by side down the corridor, the gray daylight filtered through the tall windows, bathing them in a soft blue glow. It was a simple moment, almost ordinary, but something about it felt meaningful. Without realizing it, the first seed of a friendship, and perhaps something more, had just been planted.
That afternoon, the campus was wrapped in a lazy calm. The sky was a pale shade of blue-gray, and the library windows reflected the slow descent of twilight. After their literature class, Alice and Kara stayed behind among the rows of old books, their voices low, their conversation blending with the faint rustle of pages.
Kara was animated, her eyes bright as she flipped through a poetry book they'd been discussing earlier.
"You know, I think it's incredible how some authors can pour so much emotion into so few lines. It's like the poem breathes with you, like it lives under your skin."
Alice, seated across from her, listened with quiet attentiveness, that usual mix of caution and curiosity in her expression.
"I know what you mean. Some words just… echo deeper than they should. Sometimes it's beautiful, but sometimes it's unsettling too."
Kara smiled, leaning forward slightly.
"So you feel that too! I thought maybe I was just getting carried away."
Alice's gaze drifted toward the window, where the fading sunlight stretched across the horizon.
"No… not just you. Literature has a habit of revealing the things we try to hide."
Silence lingered for a moment. Kara studied her face, the way Alice absentmindedly twirled her pencil, the composed posture, the quiet strength. There was something about her that felt unreadable, like a closed book Kara wanted to understand.
They spent the rest of the afternoon trading small details, books, professors, even the music they liked to read to. Kara's laughter came easily, filling the gaps that Alice's silences left behind. Somehow, that lightness began to chip away at the invisible walls around Alice.
When the tower bell finally chimed to announce closing time, they packed their notes and walked out together. The sky outside was painted in pink and violet hues, and a cool breeze stirred the fallen leaves across the courtyard.
Kara was the first to break the quiet.
"Can I ask you something?"
Alice raised a brow, cautious. "Go ahead."
Kara pressed her lips together before speaking, choosing her words carefully.
"Why are you always alone? I mean… you seem to prefer it, but I can't figure out why."
Alice stopped walking, her gaze fixed on the darkening sky. There was a quiet weight behind her eyes when she finally answered.
"I just… prefer not to get too close to people. I haven't had the best experiences before. That's all."
Kara wanted to ask more, but something in Alice's tone told her not to push. There was a line there, one not meant to be crossed yet.
When they reached the front gates, Alice paused and turned toward her. Her expression softened, losing some of its usual distance.
"You're actually pretty nice… take care, okay?"
Kara blinked, surprised by the simple but sincere words. Then she smiled.
"I will. You too, Alice."
They parted ways, heading in opposite directions, yet an invisible thread had already formed between them, something quiet, fragile, and real. From that moment on, it would only grow stronger.