Chapter Five : Unfinished Conversations

(Callum’s POV)

Callum didn’t expect to see Rhett again so soon.

Not outside class. Not like this.

But when he stepped into the nearly empty campus greenhouse the next afternoon—hoping for quiet after a loud day—he found Rhett already there.

Sitting on the bench. Back turned. Still.

And reading his book again.

“…Didn’t know this was your secret lair,” Callum said quietly.

Rhett didn’t even flinch. “It isn’t. Not yet.”

Callum stepped closer, brushing dew off a leaf as he passed it. “You followed me here?”

“No,” Rhett said, glancing up, “just wanted silence.”

Callum sat beside him anyway, leaving a small space between them. Not too close. Not too far.

He studied Rhett’s profile—the sharp jaw, the shadows beneath his eyes. The unbothered frown he wore like armor.

“You always run away after we talk,” Rhett said suddenly.

Callum blinked. “I don’t—”

“You do,” Rhett cut in, voice softer now. “Like you’re scared I’ll change my mind.”

Callum looked down at his hands. “You confuse me.”

“Good. You confuse me too.”

They sat in silence for a beat. Not uncomfortable—just weighty, like the air knew how much wasn’t being said.

“I’m not used to people like you,” Callum finally whispered.

“Grumpy?”

“No. Honest. Cold but not cruel.” He paused. “People look at you and see danger. But when you talk, I hear… someone who’s been lonely for a long time.”

Rhett was quiet.

Then: “And you? You act like softness is something to hide.”

Callum blinked, startled by the accuracy. “…It usually is.”

There it was again. That closeness without touching. That pull neither of them knew how to name.

The sun filtered through the glass ceiling, painting Rhett’s hair in streaks of gold. For once, he looked less like an enigma and more like a boy who needed rest.

“Why me?” Callum asked before he could stop himself. “Why do you keep showing up?”

Rhett closed the book gently.

“I don’t like most people,” he said simply. “They talk too much. Feel too loud. Want too much.”

“And I don’t?”

“You want things. But you never ask. You sit there hoping someone will notice. And for some reason… I noticed.”

Callum’s throat tightened. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh or kiss him.

Rhett stood up suddenly.

“I don’t know what this is yet,” he admitted, voice low. “But I’m not going to pretend I don’t care.”

Then he started walking away, like the moment hadn’t shaken the ground between them.

But at the last second, he turned back.

“I’ll be at the café tomorrow morning. 8:00. Come if you want.”

And just like that, he was gone.