The Only Exception

✦ Chapter Three: Conversations That Don't Feel Like Small Talk

Zei didn't know when it became a habit.
Looking for him.
Not looking, exactly. Just... noticing. In the way you notice a book on a shelf you've read once but haven't stopped thinking about.

Kael wasn't someone who tried to be noticed. He existed on the edges - participating when required, present when necessary, but never reaching beyond polite engagement.

Still.
She noticed.

⸻

"You're early," he said when she arrived for the next session, standing by the notice board as if the peeling posters actually mattered.

"So are you."

"Force of habit."

"You make it sound like a punishment."

"Being early isn't the problem. It's what comes after."

"You mean... people."

That earned a faint smile from him.

"Exactly."

⸻

Their conversations weren't remarkable in length. But there was something in the rhythm - quiet, clipped exchanges that felt heavier than small talk, lighter than confessions.
Somewhere in between.

Zei liked in-betweens.
It meant things hadn't settled into certainty yet. Certainty made people lazy.

"Where's your entourage?" Kael asked, scanning for Reid's familiar loudness and Demi's quiet orbit.

"Running late."

"On purpose, or by accident?"

"With them? Could be either."

Kael's smile, rare as it was, lingered a fraction longer this time.

⸻

The meeting passed the way most did - too long, too disorganised, too wrapped in half-hearted efforts to force collaboration.

Reid eventually appeared, dropping into a seat beside Zei with his usual dramatic sigh.

"If I have to listen to one more motivational speaker talk about networking like it's a dating app, I'm transferring."

"You're not even from this uni."

"Technicalities."

Demi, catching up to them with a quiet grin, added,

"You survive this, you can survive anything."

⸻

Somewhere between the slides about "globalisation" and "cross-cultural engagement," Zei felt Kael's glance again.
Not deliberate. Not obvious.
Just... there.
Like he was making sure she hadn't disappeared.

And somehow, that mattered.

⸻

Later, outside under dim streetlights where the air felt less suffocating, their trio regrouped.
Demi scrolled through her phone. Reid recounted some over-exaggerated disaster involving another participant.

Kael lingered a few paces away. Not intruding. Not leaving.

Zei found herself walking toward him.

"Long day," she said, almost too casually.

"They tend to be."

"Do you ever take a break?"

"Do you?"

"Fair point."

A pause. Comfortable, if not quite warm.

"You'll burn out," Kael said, not unkindly.

"You sound like you know."

"I do."

⸻

"Zei!" Reid called from across the lot. "We're getting food! You in?"

"Go ahead," she called back. "I'll catch up."

Reid raised an eyebrow but didn't press it. Demi waved her off with a knowing look.

When they were gone, Kael said quietly,

"You're good with people."

"That's a lie I tell myself."

"Still convincing."

"You're not bad at it either."

"I don't try."

"That's why it works."

Another look passed between them. Brief, unsmiling. But not cold.

"See you next time," he said, already turning away.

"Kael?"

He paused.

"I'm glad you're here."

For a moment, something unreadable flickered across his face.

"Me too."

⸻

That night, Zei replayed the conversation without meaning to.
Not because of what was said.

Because of what wasn't.