The Only Exception

✦ Chapter Five: The Art of Not Saying Too Much

The invitation wasn't really an invitation.

More like... a passing suggestion.
Thrown out like it didn't matter whether she said yes or no.

"If you're ever around the city centre," Kael had said, "there's a place I go sometimes."

"A place?"

"Coffee. Books. You'd like it."

Zei didn't ask how he knew she'd like it.
She didn't ask for the name either.
He just told her, and she remembered.

⸻

It wasn't a date. She told herself that.

Just... coincidence. She happened to be free. He happened to mention it. What was wrong with visiting a bookstore café on her own?

It wasn't like she dressed for anyone except herself - oversized button-up, denim skirt, sneakers worn out from years of loyalty. No makeup beyond lip balm. Hair pinned half-heartedly.

If Kael showed up, fine.
If he didn't, fine.

Except... of course he was there.

Sitting by the window, coffee already half gone. A book open, spine cracked, thumb holding his place like he hadn't moved in an hour.

He looked up when she walked in.
No surprise in his expression. No smugness either.

"You came."

"Apparently."

"Good."

⸻

They didn't talk much at first.

Zei ordered a matcha latte. Sat across from him. Pulled out her own book, though she wasn't sure she'd read it.

It wasn't awkward.
It wasn't comfortable, either.

It just... was.

Like the air between them wasn't heavy enough yet to need filling with words.

⸻

"Is this your usual haunt?" she asked eventually, tapping her cup.

"When I want to disappear for a bit."

"From what?"

"Everything."

"Even me?"

"Not you."

That made her smile despite herself.

"Why books?" she asked. "Why not music, or games, or-"

"Books are quiet."

"You like quiet?"

"I like... stillness. I like the way books don't ask for anything. You take what you need, leave when you're done."

"People aren't like that."

"No." He met her eyes. "You're not like that."

⸻

For a moment, neither spoke.

The hum of conversations around them softened into background noise. The clink of cups, the scrape of chairs, the low hiss of the coffee machine - all distant.

"You're easy to talk to," Kael said suddenly, as if it surprised him.

"I thought I annoyed you."

"You confuse me."

"Better than boring you."

He smiled at that. A real one this time. Small, fleeting. The kind that made her wonder how many people actually got to see it.

⸻

They talked about things that didn't matter - favourite books, least favourite genres, weird café orders they'd overheard.

She learned he liked poetry more than prose.
He learned she hated predictable endings.

"Tragedies are just as predictable," Kael pointed out.

"Not always. Sometimes heartbreak feels earned."

"And happiness doesn't?"

"Not the easy kind."

"You're strange."

"You're older. You're supposed to be wiser."

"I said debatable."

⸻

When she checked the time, hours had slipped by without her noticing.

"You should've said something," she said, gathering her things.

"You didn't look like you wanted me to."

He walked her toward the train station. Not because she asked. Just... because.

Hands in his pockets. Expression unreadable again.
The streets near the station grew quieter as they walked. That suburban hush creeping in at the edges - different from Kael's usual city hum.

"Thanks for... this."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Still."

He paused, like there was something else he could say but wasn't sure if he should.

"I don't usually... do this kind of thing," Kael admitted.

"What, coffee with people?"

"Coffee. Conversations. Letting people stay long enough to notice me."

"And yet... here we are."

"Yeah." His gaze dropped, then met hers again. "Here we are."

⸻

Her train arrived. She didn't want to leave.
He didn't ask her to stay.

"See you," she said, stepping backward.

"Yeah," Kael said. "See you."

But the way he watched her go - like he was memorising her shape, her silhouette framed against the station platform lights - felt like he'd already decided she wasn't going anywhere.