The Only Exception

✦ Chapter Twelve: Almost, Almost

Kael didn't text her for two days.

Not because something was wrong.
Because life was moving - fast, relentless, full of things neither of them could outrun.

Graduation loomed closer on his side of the line. Final papers. Projects. Last things.
Zei tried not to count the ways he was already halfway into a future she hadn't caught up to yet.

Still, when his name lit up her phone on a quiet Sunday, it settled something in her chest.

You free?
I want to see you.

Noir was waiting when she stepped outside, black and familiar beneath clouds that hadn't yet decided if they wanted to rain.

"You look like you haven't slept in three days," she said as she slid into the seat.

Kael huffed a laugh. "I'm still here."

"You say that like it explains everything."

"Doesn't it?"

She didn't answer. She didn't need to.

He didn't drive them to a hill. Not this time.
Instead, the road wound quieter, narrower, toward someplace she didn't expect: a small chapel on the outskirts of nowhere. Hidden behind trees, forgotten by maps, cradled in silence that felt too soft to break.

He parked, turned off the engine, and for a moment just sat there. Like he wasn't sure how to start.

"I needed air," Kael said at last, stepping out and waiting for her to follow. "Too many people lately. Too many things."

Zei trailed after him up the worn stone steps. The chapel doors were unlocked, old wood groaning in protest as they pushed through.

Inside, it smelled of dust and time. Faded pews. Stained glass catching whatever little light the clouds allowed through. A cross hung silent above it all, watching. Waiting.

Kael stood near the front, hands in his pockets, head tilted back as if he was thinking through things he'd never said aloud.

"You didn't have to pick me up," Zei said quietly.

"I wanted to."

Little by little.

They sat down, not side by side at first - space between them, air between them, things unsaid between them.
But the quiet wasn't heavy. It felt like permission.

⸻

"You're scared of a lot of things," Kael said eventually, his voice soft beneath the chapel's hush.

Zei let her head tip back, watching light pattern itself against the ceiling. "Yeah."

"Me too."

That surprised her. "What would someone like you be afraid of?"

He gave her a look. "People like me?"

"You seem... solid."

"That's not the same as safe."

"You feel safe."

Kael's smile was small. "Good."

He stood then. Not pacing. Just moving, slow, quiet, toward the altar. Not for show. Not for her.

For himself.

Zei watched as he rested his hand against the old wood. Bowed his head like someone searching for answers he already half-knew.

"Why here?" she asked, her voice almost too small to reach him.

Kael exhaled. "Because I wanted... somewhere honest."

He didn't look at her when he spoke next. His words weren't for her alone. They were for something larger. For something listening.

His hand pressed to the altar like it steadied him. His head bowed, not dramatically, just quietly - like someone folding into prayer without needing anyone to notice.

"Heavenly Father," Kael said, soft but steady. "I don't want to love someone the way I was taught to. I don't want to hold someone like it's temporary. I don't want to run when it gets hard."

"I'm not asking for her heart now. I know that's not mine to take. I'm asking for the strength to keep showing up. To keep choosing her, even on days she can't choose herself."

Zei felt her chest tighten.

"Teach me how to love right. How to stay right. How to take care of her - not just in words, but in the way I live beside her. In how I wait beside her. In how I protect what she's still too afraid to offer."

"Help me keep her safe. Help me be kind. Help me be patient. Help me be the kind of man who stays when it's hardest to."

He opened his eyes. Looked at the cross. Looked at nothing at all.

"This is my promise. Not because she's owed it. But because I want to."

"Amen."

Only then did Kael return to where she sat. Slowly. Carefully. Like the moment asked for reverence. Like it deserved it.

"I was going to ask you something," he said, voice quieter now. "But I didn't know how."

"What is it?"

He glanced at her, eyes softer than she'd ever seen them. "Have you ever been held by someone who didn't want anything from you?"

Zei blinked. "What?"

"A hug," Kael clarified. "Not... anything else. Just... held. Just safe."

Her throat went tight. "No."

Kael didn't move right away. Didn't push. Just let the words hang there between them until she realized she wasn't afraid of them. Not with him.

"Can I?" he asked.

Not come here. Not let me. Just... can I.

Zei nodded, small and slow.

Kael didn't reach for her like someone claiming something owed. He moved like someone offering. Careful. Gentle. Arms wrapping around her like they already knew how to hold her fear without making it heavier.

He pressed his cheek lightly to the top of her head. Breathed in. Spoke against her hair, low and steady.

"Always."

Like a vow. Like a promise. Like a prayer that didn't need to be said in louder words than this.

Zei didn't realize she'd been shaking until she wasn't.

"You're okay," Kael said, not in the way people say it to dismiss. In the way people say it to remind you it's true.

And for the first time in a long time, she believed it.

⸻

Later, when they sat side by side again, her hand ended up in his without her noticing how.

Not gripping. Not asking. Just... there.

"You'll finish first," she said quietly. "Graduate. Move on."

"I'm not moving on from this."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

Zei looked down at their hands, at the way his thumb brushed slow circles against her skin like he didn't even know he was doing it. Like it was instinct.

"This isn't temporary for me," Kael said. "I don't... say things like this lightly."

She didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to say it back without all the words catching in her throat.

So she leaned her head against his shoulder. Soft. Quiet. Almost brave.

And Kael, without missing a beat, leaned his cheek against her hair like he'd been waiting for her to do it all along.

⸻

It wasn't a confession. Not yet.

But it was something like it.

Something almost.

Something worth staying for.