The next day, in the library, the book she was looking for wasn't where she remembered.
She stopped in front of the shelf, her body leaning slightly forward. Her eyes scanned slowly across the spines. Titles. Authors. Different colors, some faded, some too new.
She stopped. Went back a few rows. Then forward again.
A small sigh escaped her nose, barely noticeable. Not real annoyance. Just that light frustration when something should be there - and isn't.
Beside her, him. Still. His gaze low, as if he were looking at the floor - or nothing in particular.
He didn't step in right away. Didn't ask what she was looking for. Didn't say anything.
A second. Maybe two.
Then he raised his arm, unhurried. His hand reached a shelf higher up, just above her eye level. Stopped on a precise spot. Took the book. Handed it to her.
She looked at him, only half surprised. As if part of her had expected it.
"Did you know where it was?"
He gave a small shrug. "I saw it before."
She lowered her gaze to the book. Held it in her hands for a moment, her fingers running along the edge of the cover without opening it right away.
Then she raised her eyes slightly toward him.
"You're always alone. Doesn't it weigh on you?"
His expression didn't change.
"No."
Pause.
"Why?"
A beat. Almost imperceptible.
"Nobody misses me."
The sentence came flat. No hesitation. No defenses. Not cold. Not harsh. Just precise.
She stayed still.
She opened the book without really reading it.
"Ah."
Nothing else.
He had already gone back to being still. As before.
But something - small, subtle - had stayed in the air.
And she carried it with her longer than she would have liked.
---
A few days later they went to visit various film and TV sets.
Lights already set up, cables running along the floor, half-built sets that let you glimpse the structures and supports behind the scenes. The air mixed the smell of worked wood, fine dust, and still-fresh paint.
She was excited. She didn't need words to show it.
Her eyes kept moving, going from one detail to another without ever really stopping. She walked slowly among the objects, with measured, almost careful steps, as if every surface might be fragile or important.
He was there. Present, but with a different attitude. His gaze went to the structure - how the set had been built, how the elements were arranged, the relationships between lights, spaces, and surfaces. He registered. No comments. No visible reactions.
She stopped in front of a painted backdrop leaning against a wall. A landscape, warm colors, harmonized.
She studied it for a few seconds, tilting her head slightly.
"That painting is nice, isn't it?"
He looked at it. One second. Two.
"No."
Pause.
"It's wrong."
"Huh?"
He made a small nod toward the painting. "The light. It's not consistent."
She stayed silent for a moment.
Then she burst out laughing softly. Genuine, light, more surprised by his observation than anything.
"You really notice everything."
He didn't answer. His expression didn't change. He went back to looking at the set, as before.
---
In the afternoon, when they left, the sky had changed.
Thick clouds had covered the sun within a few minutes, and while they were still crossing the courtyard the first drops began to fall. Fast, cold, heavy.
She stopped instinctively, checking with her eyes whether she had an umbrella in her backpack.
She didn't.
He walked past without stopping. Then he paused - half a second, like someone making a small decision without thinking too much about it. He pulled the umbrella out of his backpack and handed it to her.
She looked at him. "And you?"
"I'll manage."
"You'll get wet."
"It doesn't change anything."
She stood there with the umbrella in her hand for a moment. Then opened it.
He started walking again in the rain. Shoulders straight, steady pace, his hair slowly getting wet on his forehead. Unhurried. No hesitation. As if the rain were just a detail of the path, not a problem.
She stayed still under the umbrella, the drops beating against the fabric with a soft, steady sound.
She watched him until he disappeared around the corner.
Only then did she lower her eyes to the wet street in front of her.
And started walking again.