New Year's Eve night, she'd come home late from her friends.
She changed, let herself fall onto the couch. Her body was tired but her head was still spinning, too awake to let her sleep.
He came out of his room, headphones around his neck, dressed as always.
She looked at him.
"Can I come?"
He didn't answer right away. He took off his headphones. Looked at her for a second.
It was a yes.
She got up, got ready, and they went out together into the cold of the night.
They walked in silence.
She started talking, as she always did - slowly, gradually. First light things. Then, almost without realizing it, the questions became more real.
"Why are you like this?"
"Like what?"
"Empty. Cold. Like life just slides off you without leaving anything behind."
He stopped for a moment.
"I don't know how to fake what I don't feel."
She stayed silent, taking in that answer.
The street was quiet, the streetlights drawing circles of light on the asphalt. The cold pushed them to walk close together, almost without meaning to.
"And what do you feel now?" she asked, more softly.
"Nothing."
"When do you feel?"
Brief pause.
"It shows."
"Always?"
He shook his head slightly.
"It's rare."
She smiled.
The silence returned - but different. Not heavy. Almost familiar.
They were crossing the street when she stopped watching the road ahead.
She didn't hear the car.
He did.
He moved before he could even think - he grabbed her and pulled her toward him with a decisive, instinctive force. The vehicle sped past in front of them a moment later.
She stayed frozen, her heart pounding, her breath broken.
Only then did she notice she was pressed against him.
She looked up.
His face was serious, his jaw tight, his eyes still fixed on the road. She looked at him up close like she never had before - the line of his jaw, the way his breath still came short.
The thought rose in her, spontaneous, before she could stop it.
*Beautiful.*
She parted her lips slightly.
But the word didn't come out.
"You're crazy," she said instead, trying to keep her voice steady.
"You were about to get hit."
He said it plainly, like a simple fact.
He let her go with ease.
They started walking home again in silence.
At some point he spoke, without looking at her.
"And you... how do you live life?"
She actually thought about it.
"However it comes, I guess."
He nodded slowly.
"It shows."
He said it without judgment.
They stopped in front of the front door.
He went in first.
She stayed outside for a moment, the cold of the night still on her and that question still hanging in the air.
Then she went in too.