The morning after Liam stayed for tea did not begin with rain.
That alone felt strange enough to wake Sienna before her alarm. Pale light seeped through the curtains—soft, tentative—as though the sky itself wasn’t used to showing its face in Willowridge. For a long moment she simply lay there, listening to the absence of raindrops.
The quiet was different today. Not empty. Not echoing.
A quiet with room in it.
She sat up slowly, her hair falling forward as she pressed a hand against her chest, trying to understand the warmth still lingering there. Last night had been gentle, unhurried—two cups of tea, a shared couch, words that felt like stepping stones laid between them. When he left, he wasn’t carrying any of her quiet with him. Somehow, he had left more behind.
She got ready with a steadiness she hadn’t felt in years. No rushing, no hiding from her own reflection. When she stepped outside, the cool morning air brushed against her cheeks, crisp and startlingly clear.
No rain.
No mist.
Just air.
As she walked toward the library, she noticed details she rarely saw—the shape of rooftops unobscured by fog, the distant line of hills, the warm amber of lights flicking on behind bakery windows. People looked different too. More awake. Or maybe she was.
Sienna was unlocking the library door when footsteps approached. She didn’t even have to turn to know it was Liam.
“Morning,” he said, his voice carrying in the open air more than it ever did under rain.
She turned and found him with two cups of coffee. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep much,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Too bright.”
She huffed a small laugh. “It’s barely sunrise.”
“Still counts.” He held out the cup. “This one’s yours. I asked them to make it less sweet this time.”
She blinked. “You remembered.”
“I’m trying,” he said lightly.
She took the cup, fingers brushing his for a moment—warm skin, colder air. The smallest shock of contact went through her, though neither of them pulled away too quickly.
They stepped inside together. The library lights hummed awake, and the warm glow softened the edges of the morning.
Liam followed her behind the counter. “Last night was… nice.”
His voice was simple. Uncomplicated.
But the meaning beneath it was not.
Sienna nodded. “It was.”
He hesitated. “Can I ask—did it feel okay? I don’t want to assume anything.”
She met his eyes—really met them—and felt that same quiet warmth settle beneath her ribs.
“It felt… good,” she said softly.
Relief washed over his features, subtle but unmistakable. “I’m glad.”
They stood there, the silence stretching warm between them, until the bell above the door jingled loudly and broke the moment.
Nora strode in with a scarf half over her face.
“What on earth—why is it bright outside?” she demanded. “Is this allowed?”
Liam grinned. “We’ll adapt.”
Nora’s gaze bounced between the two of them, narrowing.
“You both look weird,” she announced.
Sienna stiffened. “Weird how?”
“Like you slept. And had feelings. At the same time.” Nora pointed dramatically. “Suspicious.”
Sienna opened her mouth—nothing came out.
Liam coughed into his sleeve, failing to disguise a smile. “We’re fine, Nora.”
“Sure,” Nora said, unconvinced but entertained. “If either of you bursts into song, I’m leaving.”
She vanished toward the back room, muttering about “emotional humidity.”
Liam leaned closer, voice low. “She’s going to make this her entire personality for the next week.”
Sienna sighed. “Probably.”
But when she looked up at him, she found herself smiling—openly, without hiding it.
For the first time, the morning light didn’t feel harsh or foreign.
It felt like possibility.
The day moved gently, as though Willowridge wasn’t sure how to handle a morning without rain. People lingered longer in the library, surprised by the light, as if the town had been given something rare and precious.
Sienna felt lighter too.
Near noon, she stepped outside to take a short break. The sky, pale and open, stretched above her—cleansed of the familiar gray. She tilted her face upward, letting the thin sunlight brush her skin. It wasn’t warm, not really, but it was real.
“Stealing some sunshine?”
She turned. Liam leaned against the wall, two sandwiches in hand.
“I figured you forgot to eat,” he said, offering one.
Sienna blinked. “I didn’t forget.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“…Okay, I might have forgotten.”
He smiled and handed her the sandwich.
They sat on the bench beside the library, their shoulders almost touching. People walked by, some greeting them, some doing a double take at the rare sky. A child pointed up, shouting, “The sun’s back!” before running down the street with muddy sneakers.
Sienna bit into her sandwich. “It feels strange.”
“The sun?” Liam asked.
“The… brightness,” she said. “It makes everything look different.”
“It does,” Liam said. “But not in a bad way.”
She glanced at him. The sunlight softened his features, made the brown in his eyes warmer, made him look—
different.
Like she was seeing him in focus for the first time.
He caught her gaze. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said too quickly.
He laughed softly. “If you say so.”
They finished lunch in an easy quiet. When they stood, he reached to take her empty wrapper, fingers brushing hers again—accidental, gentle. She didn’t flinch.
Inside, the afternoon passed quietly until closing. Nora left with dramatic commentary about “emotional weather patterns,” and the library door clicked shut behind her, leaving only the two of them in the warm lamplight.
Liam walked toward Sienna as she put away the last stack of books.
“Can I walk you home again?” he asked.
She looked at him. “There’s no rain.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I can’t walk with you.”
She tried not to smile—and failed. “Okay.”
They stepped outside. The sun had dipped behind the hills, leaving the sky streaked with lavender and soft gold. The air was crisp, the world freshly washed from the change in weather.
As they walked, their hands brushed once.
Then again—closer this time.
And then—
Sienna didn’t move away.
Neither did he.
They walked the rest of the way like that—fingers barely touching, not holding, but not letting go.
When they reached her building, Liam paused.
“Today felt… different,” he said.
“It was,” she answered honestly.
He swallowed, eyes searching hers gently. “A good different?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
His shoulders relaxed, and a soft smile touched his face. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she echoed.
He waited until she stepped inside before turning away.
Sienna closed the door behind her and leaned against it, breath steady, heart not afraid of its own rhythm.
The first light had come.
And this time—
she let it in.
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