The next few days settled into a rhythm so gentle that Sienna almost didn’t notice how much had changed. The library felt lighter, somehow—less like a place she hid in, and more like a place she was choosing to stay. Liam’s presence, once a quiet ripple in her day, had become something steady, familiar. Not loud, not overwhelming—just there.
On Thursday morning, she found him already sitting at the small round table near the front windows, a notebook open, coffee steaming beside him. He looked up at her entrance, offering a soft smile that reached his eyes.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning.” Her reply came easier now, her voice no longer tugged down by the weight of hesitation.
She walked behind the counter, setting her bag down. The rain outside was light today, barely more than a whisper on the glass, but the sky remained its usual gray, a shade of muted comfort.
Liam stood and walked toward the counter. “Do you have a minute?”
She blinked. “Now?”
“Yeah. Just... wanted to talk before the day starts.”
There was something unusual in his tone—not heavy, but purposeful.
Sienna nodded, stepping away from the counter. “Okay.”
He motioned toward the same round table. They sat across from each other, and for a moment, neither spoke. It wasn’t awkward—just a pause, a gathering of thoughts.
“I’ve been thinking,” Liam said finally, turning his coffee cup slowly between his hands. “About last week. And about us.”
The word hung in the air—*us*—and Sienna felt her breath catch again, but not in the old way. In the new way. The anticipatory way.
“I know things are moving slowly,” he continued, “and that’s okay. I like slow. But I also want to make sure that we’re… moving at the same pace.”
Sienna swallowed, folding her hands in her lap. “I thought we were.”
“We are,” he said quickly. “I just—” He exhaled, searching for the right words. “Sometimes I don’t know what you’re thinking. And I don’t want to assume.”
She looked down. “I know. I’m trying.”
“I can tell.” His voice softened. “And I’m not asking for big things. I just want us to be able to say what matters. Even if it’s small.”
Her fingers curled tighter. “Small is alright.”
He smiled gently. “Good.”
A moment passed, and Sienna found herself wanting to say something—anything—to show she understood. That she wasn’t running. Not anymore.
“I like… being around you,” she said, the words fragile but real. “Even when we’re not saying much.”
Liam’s gaze warmed. “Me too.”
The quiet that followed wasn’t empty. It was full.
Before either of them could say more, the bell above the door chimed.
Nora breezed in, dripping rain and mischief. “Wow. Morning meeting at the romance table?”
Sienna flushed instantly. Liam laughed under his breath, pushing his chair back.
“Work calls,” he said softly to Sienna, rising to help Nora set up.
Sienna watched him move across the room, something steadying inside her.
The quiet wasn’t just quiet anymore.
It was speaking.
The afternoon brought a soft, lingering light—the kind that almost felt like a truce between the clouds and the sun. People drifted in and out of the library, and the day moved in its usual slow rhythm.
But Sienna felt different within it. More present.
During a lull, she found Liam in the nonfiction aisle, reorganizing a stack of books Nora had abandoned halfway through.
“You don’t have to do that,” she told him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I know.”
A beat.
“...But you want to,” she finished for him.
He smiled. “Yeah.”
She stepped closer, drawn by the ease between them. The aisle was narrow, and as she approached, Liam instinctively shifted back to give her space—yet their shoulders still nearly brushed. The closeness pulled her breath tight in her chest, but it wasn’t fear.
Not anymore.
Liam held out a book toward her. “Where does this go?”
She reached for it at the same moment he did, their fingers grazing.
She froze.
He did too.
The touch was barely anything—no pressure, no insistence—but it sent a warmth up her arm she wasn’t prepared for.
Sienna swallowed, withdrawing her hand gently. “I’ll… take it.”
“Okay,” he said softly.
They stood in that narrow stretch of space, the quiet suddenly deeper, warmer. She could feel his presence—not overwhelming, but attentive, aware.
It was Liam who finally stepped back, giving her room to breathe.
But she didn’t step away.
Later, when the library closed and Nora left with a wink the size of a billboard, Sienna lingered by the door as Liam packed his notebook and keys.
He looked up. “You heading home?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded toward the street. “Walk together?”
She found herself nodding before the question even finished leaving his mouth.
Outside, the rain had thinned to a mist, brushing against their jackets like a soft reminder that the world was still moving. They walked in comfortable quiet, the kind she once feared but now found herself leaning into.
Halfway down the street, Liam spoke.
“Can I ask you something?”
Sienna’s pulse jumped. “Sure.”
“When you said you liked being around me…” He hesitated, searching her face. “Did you mean it the way I think you meant it?”
Her steps slowed.
Then stopped.
He stopped too.
Sienna drew in a breath that felt like stepping off something high. “Yes,” she said, barely more than a whisper. “I did.”
Liam’s shoulders lowered—not in disappointment, but in something like relief. His voice was quiet when he answered.
“Good. Because I meant it too.”
They didn’t move for a long moment, the mist settling around them like a gentle curtain.
Then, slowly, they began walking again, closer this time—close enough that their arms brushed with each step, neither pulling away.
Something had shifted.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But clearly.
Quiet had found its voice.
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