The space between Zein Shoin and Ace Craige no longer felt like something either of them controlled, because even when Zein tried to create it—by stepping back, by focusing on work, by choosing silence over response—it never stayed, it always closed again in ways she didn't expect, in ways that made her feel like she was losing a battle she hadn't agreed to fight in the first place, and what made it worse was that.
Ace never chased her in obvious ways, never forced closeness, never demanded answers, yet somehow still managed to pull her back into every unfinished conversation, every unresolved thought, every moment she tried to leave behind, and as she stood across from him again, she realized that distance wasn't something she could rebuild anymore—not with him standing there like he already knew she wouldn't leave.
"You're trying again," he said.
"I'm working," she said.
"That's not what I meant," he said.
"Then say what you meant," she said.
Ace crossed his arms slightly.
"You're trying to put space between us," he said.
"That's not your decision," she replied.
"No," he said, "but it is my observation."
Zein exhaled softly.
"You observe too much," she said.
"And you hide too much," he said.
"That's not true," she said.
"Then stay," he said.
"I am staying," she replied.
"No," he said, "not like this."
Zein frowned slightly.
"What does that even mean?" she asked.
"It means you're here physically," he said, "but not honestly."
Zein's breath slowed.
"…you're expecting too much," she said.
"I'm expecting the truth," he said.
"That's too much," she replied.
"For you?" he asked.
"For anyone," she said.
Ace stepped closer—again, not enough to invade, but enough to make the space feel deliberate.
"That's not true," he said.
Zein looked at him.
"You're too sure of everything," she said.
"No," he said, "just this."
"…why?" she asked.
"Because you keep proving it," he replied.
Zein shook her head faintly.
"…I'm not proving anything," she said.
"You are," he said.
"How?" she asked.
"By staying," he replied.
Zein went still.
"That doesn't mean anything," she said.
"It means everything," he said.
Zein looked away again.
"…I could leave," she said.
"Then do it," he said.
The words came immediately.
Without hesitation.
Zein blinked.
"…what?" she asked.
"Leave," he said.
Zein didn't move.
"…you don't mean that," she said.
"I do," he replied.
"Then why are you so calm?" she asked.
"Because you won't," he said.
Zein's chest tightened slightly.
"You don't know that," she said.
"I do," he said.
"…stop saying that," she said.
"Stop proving me right," he replied.
Zein clenched her jaw slightly.
"…you're impossible," she said.
"And you're still here," he said.
Zein didn't respond.
"…I could walk out right now," she said.
"Then why aren't you?" he asked.
Silence.
Zein's voice dropped.
"…because—"
She stopped.
Ace didn't interrupt.
"…because what?" he asked quietly.
Zein shook her head.
"…nothing," she said.
"That's not nothing," he said.
"It is," she insisted.
"Say it properly," he said.
"I said it," she replied.
"Say it honestly," he said.
Zein's composure slipped again.
"…I don't want to leave," she admitted.
The words landed heavily.
Ace exhaled slowly.
"I know," he said.
Zein looked at him, frustration flashing.
"Stop saying that," she said.
"Then stop proving it," he replied.
Zein's voice softened.
"…this doesn't make sense," she said.
"It doesn't have to," he said.
Zein shook her head.
"…I don't understand this," she said.
"You don't need to," he said.
"Then what do I need to do?" she asked.
Ace held her gaze.
"Stay," he said.
Zein's breath slowed again.
"…I already am," she said.
Ace's voice lowered slightly.
"Then stop acting like you're not," he said.
Zein didn't reply.
Because this time—
She couldn't deny it anymore.