Hint Of Warmth?

You stayed on the bench with Kai.

The streetlamp flickered overhead, wind brushing through the trees like whispered secrets.

Neither of you said anything for a while. He was still messing with his keyboard, replaying the beat you gave him in soft little pieces—letting it evolve, echo, change.

You watched his hands.

But inside?

You were cracking.

You didn’t mean to.

Didn’t even know what started it.

Maybe it was how safe it felt. Maybe it was that Kai hadn’t touched you once. Not your hand, not your thigh, not your hair.

And somehow that made you feel more seen than any kiss could.

Your voice broke before your tears did.

“I didn’t mean to mess things up.”

Kai paused. Didn’t look at you. Just kept playing, softly.

You swallowed.

“I didn’t mean to break anything. Or anyone. I’m not that girl.”

Your fingers curled into your sleeves. You blinked up, hard, trying to stop the sting.

“I’m not supposed to be the one that gets caught between people. I’m not supposed to wreck people, Kai.”

And then?

You cracked.

Just quietly. Tears falling silently, lips pressed together so hard it hurt, shoulders trembling in that horrible, helpless way.

He stopped playing. Didn’t speak. Didn’t react like he pitied you.

Instead—

He slid his hoodie off and draped it over your shoulders.

Gently. Not a word.

Then, so quiet it felt like music:

“You didn’t wreck anyone, Moon.”

You shook your head.

“You weren’t there. Seth hates me. Jen… I don’t even know what he wants. And the band’s falling apart. All because I can’t just pick one and be done with it.”

Kai turned toward you finally.

“Maybe that’s because none of them are yours to pick.”

You looked at him through blurry lashes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said gently, “you don’t owe anyone your heart just because they’re burning for it.”

He paused.

“You don’t need to be the one holding them together.”

You blinked.

“Then who am I?”

Kai smiled, just a little, brushing a tear from your cheek with the sleeve of his flannel.

“You’re the one they’re all losing sleep over.

The one who makes music feel like fire.

The one who still comes to the park with broken headphones and a storm in her chest.”

His hand hovered near yours on the bench.

Not touching.

Just there.

“You’re Moon. And you don’t have to be anything else tonight.”

And in that moment, something broke—in a good way.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just... safe.

And that safety?

Was the most dangerous thing you’d ever felt.

You wiped your face on Kai’s sleeve without asking.

He didn’t complain. Just let you lean into his shoulder for a bit, quiet, shaking slightly from the tears you didn’t even mean to shed.

“You don’t get it,” you mumbled.

“Try me,” Kai said softly.

“I hate this. I hate being wanted like a prize. I’m not... I’m not something to win.”

“I know.”

You pulled back, finally looking at him, lip trembling.

“They look at me like I’m this badass drummer girl who doesn’t feel anything. But I feel everything, Kai. I feel too much.”

You laughed, but it was hollow and wrecked.

“I feel guilty when I breathe wrong. I don’t even know how to say no without breaking someone.”

Kai’s brows knit together.

“Why do you think you owe anyone your softness?”

“Because maybe if I give it, they won’t leave.”

That part?

That was so soft, so small, it barely made it out of your throat.

And that’s when Kai did it.

He reached out—just his fingers—brushed them over your knuckles and whispered:

“Moon… if they only stay because of what you give, not who you are… then they were already gone.”

You exhaled like something inside you just crumbled and finally got to rest.

And that’s when…

Behind the hedge—just barely visible—Seth.

He’d been walking past on the path. Probably clearing his head after the rehearsal disaster.

He wasn’t looking for you. But he saw you.

And froze.

Because there you were.

Collapsed into someone else’s shoulder.

Tears down your face. Your voice trembling, barely audible.

The girl he thought was bulletproof.

The girl who always rolled her eyes when someone called her pretty, who scoffed at flowers and could destroy a drum kit like it had personally wronged her.

That girl?

Crying.

And not alone.

With someone who knew how to hold space for it.

Seth took one slow step back, breath caught, unsure whether to walk away or—

“Seth?” Ryan’s voice behind him.

Shit.

Ryan saw him too.

“What are you—”

Then he looked past him.

Saw you.

With Kai.