Chapter 5

The city below stretches like a sea of golden lights, the occasional flicker of headlights cutting through the darkness. The wind has picked up slightly, carrying the scent of rain and distant pavement. I pull Kieran’s jacket tighter around me, trying to ignore the way his scent clings to the fabric, grounding me in a way I don’t want to acknowledge.

Kieran shifts beside me, his body warm despite the chill in the air. He’s still watching me, his expression unreadable.

“You’re quiet,” he finally says, his voice low but not unkind.

I scoff, attempting to shake off the weight of the conversation we just had. “For once in your life, you’re complaining about me not talking?”

He smirks but doesn’t take the bait. “Just wondering what’s going on in that head of yours.”

I exhale sharply, my breath misting in the cold air. “Nothing interesting.”

“Liar.”

I turn to glare at him, but he’s still looking at the city. The golden glow of the skyline casts soft shadows over his sharp features, and for a second, I forget why I’m supposed to keep him at a distance.

He doesn’t push me for an answer, just flicks his lighter open and closed again, the rhythmic click settling into the silence between us.

I shift slightly on the hood of the car, letting my gaze wander back to the city. The view is beautiful, but it does nothing to silence the thoughts racing in my head. Kieran’s words from earlier still linger, clinging to me like a second skin.

Being forgotten.

I hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t meant to expose even that sliver of vulnerability. But now that it’s out there, I can’t take it back. And worse, Kieran hasn’t laughed it off or teased me for it. Instead, he’s sitting here, next to me, like he actually understands.

I don’t like it.

“So,” Kieran says suddenly, drawing my attention back to him. “Since we’re in the middle of sharing deep, soul-crushing confessions—”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?”

“—what’s something you regret?”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

He turns to me fully now, his smirk softer but still present. “A regret. Something you wish you could change.”

The question is dangerous. Because there are too many answers, too many things I would do differently if given the chance. But I know better than to give Kieran something he can use against me.

So I settle on something small. “I regret not taking a gap year before college.”

Kieran raises a brow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s it?”

I shrug, feigning indifference. “Yep.”

He hums, unconvinced, but doesn’t press. Instead, he leans back on his hands, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Alright. Your turn.”

I take a breath, choosing my next question carefully. “What do you regret?”

For a moment, I think he won’t answer. But then he tilts his head, staring out at the city with a look I can’t quite place.

“Not walking away when I had the chance.”

Something about the way he says it—quiet, almost resigned—makes my stomach twist. I don’t ask him to elaborate. Somehow, I already know he won’t.

We lapse into silence again, but this time, it’s different. Not heavy, exactly, but charged with something unspoken. Something I’m not ready to name.

The wind picks up again, sending a shiver down my spine. Kieran notices and moves without thinking, adjusting his jacket so it covers me more completely.

“You’re cold,” he murmurs, like he’s only just realizing it.

I roll my eyes. “Brilliant observation.”

He chuckles, but instead of responding, he shifts closer, just enough that his warmth is noticeable. I tell myself I don’t care, that it doesn’t mean anything, but my body betrays me, leaning into the heat without permission.

We stay like that for a while, watching the city in silence. And for once, I don’t feel the need to fill it with words.

Eventually, Kieran sighs. “We should head back.”

I don’t want to admit it, but he’s right. It’s late, and the night air is only growing colder. But still, I hesitate. Because as much as I hate to admit it, sitting here with him, in this moment, feels... safe.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

Kieran slides off the hood of the car first, holding out a hand for me. I stare at it for a second too long before finally taking it, letting him help me down. His grip is warm, steady, and I let myself hold on for just a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

We get into the car, and the engine hums to life. The drive back is quiet, the radio playing softly in the background. I glance at Kieran out of the corner of my eye, watching as he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, lost in thought.

I should say something. Crack a joke, tease him, anything to shake off the weight of whatever just happened between us. But I don’t.

Instead, I stare out the window, watching as the city lights blur past, my mind tangled in thoughts I’m not ready to face.

By the time we pull up to my place, the weight of exhaustion settles over me. I reach for the door handle, but Kieran’s voice stops me.

“Hey.”

I turn to him, raising a brow. “What?”

He hesitates for just a second before speaking. “For what it’s worth... I don’t think you’ll be forgotten.”

Something lodges itself in my throat, and for a moment, I can’t speak. But then I manage a small, quiet, “Thanks.”

Kieran nods, then leans back in his seat. “Get some sleep, alright?”

I nod, stepping out of the car and closing the door behind me. But even as I walk up to my apartment, even as I crawl into bed, his words linger.

And for the first time in a long time, I almost believe them.

The next morning, the weight of last night still clings to me, a quiet hum beneath my skin. I go through the motions—coffee, shower, getting dressed—but my mind is elsewhere.

My phone buzzes on the counter. A text from Kieran.

Knew you’d still be overthinking. Get ready, I’m picking you up in ten.

I stare at the message, my heart skipping a beat before I shake my head. Typical Kieran. Always knowing exactly what I need before I do.

With a sigh, I grab my jacket and head for the door, ignoring the way my pulse quickens at the thought of seeing him again.