2nd Floor

The Library

The library provided a cocoon of hushed conversations and shuffling papers. Elise, Max, and Bri nestled in their respective corners, each engrossed in their tasks.

Elise, in need of a break, chose a cozy spot and soon drifted into a gentle slumber.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the library windows, Elise's peaceful slumber continued, a serene contrast to the hushed activity around her. Max and Bri exchanged knowing glances, silently communicating their intentions. With a conspiratorial smile, they both rose from their seats, careful not to disturb their sleeping friend.

Max's voice was a playful whisper as she called to Elise. "Hey, sleepyhead, we're just going to turn in some book. Don't worry, we won't be long."

Bri chimed in, her tone equally mischievous. "Yeah, we'll be right back. You keep dreaming."

Elise, half-asleep and still wrapped in the embrace of her dreams, murmured a faint response, her lips curving into a contented smile.

As Max and Bri made their way to through the row of shelves, they shared a knowing look. The promise of books was merely a ruse. With the library's rustling ambience left behind, they found themselves in a quieter corner, away from prying ears.

Bri leaned against the wall, her expression taking on a flirtatious edge. "Finally, some alone time."

Max's laughter was a soft melody, her gaze meeting Bri with playful intent. "You had to drag Elise into napland for that?"

Bri's grin was unapologetic as she closed the distance between them. "Well, she's a heavy sleeper."

Their playful banter gave way to a shared closeness, the weight of their unspoken feelings simmering just beneath the surface. Bri's fingers gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Max's face, her touch lingering longer than necessary.

Bri's turquoise eyes danced with a mixture of amusement and desire. "You know, Max, you've always had a way of distracting me."

Max's tone held a seductive undertone, her voice a mere whisper. "Oh, is that so? And what are you going to do about it?"

In that quiet corridor, their playful flirtation transformed into a deeper connection, their gazes locked in an intimate dance of emotions. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the intensity of their shared moment.

Unbeknownst to them, Trent entered the library. His gaze was like a magnet, drawn to Elise's peaceful form. With careful steps, he approached, observing her as she slept, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Just as Bri is about to close their distance with a kiss, Max's eyes catches a glimpse of his bright hair from between the rows of books and excuses herself from a grumpy Bri for a moment.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She quickly intercepted Trent before he could completely lose himself in his thoughts. She pulled him aside, her expression a mix of concern and firmness, creating a private space for their conversation.

Max's voice was a blend of exasperation and worry. "You can't just keep dodging people, Trent. Especially Elise. I thought we were best friends."

Trent's eyes darted, his defenses raising instinctively. "It's not that simple."

Max's patience radiated as she met his gaze. "Then make it simple. You can't keep shutting everyone out, especially when it comes to Elise."

A sigh escaped Trent, his gaze momentarily averted. "You don't understand, Max."

Her tone softened, compassion evident in her eyes. "Then help me understand, Trent. You're hurting her by keeping her at arm's length."

With a reluctant exhale, Trent's resistance began to crumble. "I know you have liked Elise for a long time, even before everything happened. She has seen the tattoo, you know."

Trent wasn't hiding the tattoo he had but the meaning and reason behind it, he had vowed to keep it hidden from her.

Max's eyes saddened, memories dawning. "Don't worry. She doesn't know the meaning. Trent, you're hurting her even more by keeping her in the dark."

Trent's shoulders slumped, his façade of strength cracking under Max's persistent gaze. "I'm not the right person for her. I can't risk hurting her."

Max's voice held conviction, determined to cut through his defenses. "You don't get to decide that, Trent. Let her make that choice."

A moment of vulnerability washed over Trent, his armor momentarily slipping. "I'm scared, Max. I've been hurt before, and I can't go through that pain again."

Max's touch was gentle, her hand resting on his arm. "Trent, you won't know unless you try. You can't let your past dictate your future. Elise deserves the truth."

Trent's heart wrestled with his fears and desires. He realized he had been using his past as an excuse to keep his emotions locked away. Perhaps it was time to release his grip on his pain, to let go of his past and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

Max's words echoed through his mind, leading Trent down a corridor of memories.

**********************

Trent's POV

**Flashback**

The past emerged vividly—losing his mother at a tender age, being raised by a stern and emotionally distant father. Emotions had been seen as vulnerabilities, a path to pain. He had mastered the art of guarding his heart, cocooning his feelings behind a protective wall.

He revisited the memory of his mother, the one person he had loved so unconditionally.

His little legs carried him to the man he got to see only a few times a month.

The same man his mother waited for every night.

Every night, she would sing him a song and pat his head as he is lured to sleep. She would take several glances at the clock, sighing periodically but this night was different.

"A-fua, Where is Amma?"

"Trent, she's gone"

His childish brain pondered on where his mother could have gone. She promised that she would always hold his hand and never let go.

Why did she have to break her promise?

Her untimely departure had left a void that he believed could never be filled. He had accepted that void as a part of him, shielding himself from the potential hurt of loving someone deeply.

Trent's hands clenched as he relived the grief, the loneliness.

Growing in the hands of his father, the fortress he had built around his heart, the fear of showing vulnerability, all traced back to that moment.

As the only son of his father, there was no room for weakness.

The revelation hit him hard—his fear of getting hurt was holding him back, making him unwilling to expose himself to the possibility of pain.

Taking a deep breath, Trent confronted the shackles of his past. He realized that by letting his past control him, he was depriving himself of a chance at happiness and connection. It was time to break free, to allow himself to feel and open up to the possibility of love.

But how?

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