Chapter 250
Eldur’s P.O.V.
I had stepped into Nova’s house, feeling out of place, like a shadow in a sunlit room. The soft hum of the world outside felt distant, almost unreachable, as the door clicked shut behind me. Nova’s place was cozy, warm even, like the kind of home people brag about when they talk about their happy lives. Even though it was a small place, It was too normal for someone like me.
I didn’t belong here.
But here I was.
I lingered by the kitchen door, unsure of what to do with myself. Nova hadn’t said much since I arrived—she never really asked, and I never really volunteered. It felt easier that way, even if it didn’t make sense.
“Alright,” she said, pulling me from my thoughts as she tossed a look over her shoulder. She was pulling out mugs and chocolate powder from the kitchen cabinets. “Let’s do this p>
I stood there for a moment, still rooted to the spot. What was I supposed to do? Sit down? Stare at her? Was there a script I missed? I cleared my throat and completely walk into her kitchen, trying to act natural, like I wasn’t completely out of my element.
Nova didn’t seem bothered by the silence. She busied herself with pouring milk into a pot, her movements slow and deliberate. I leaned against the counter, watching her.
“I’m still not sure what I’m doing here,” I said, my voice quiet. The words felt clumsy, like they didn’t quite fit in my mouth.
She didn’t look up but I could feel her grin. “That’s okay,” she said, her tone playful. “I’m sure I don’t know either. But I’ll figure it out. I’m good at that p>
I raised an eyebrow. “What, figuring things out p>
“Yeah,” she said, giving me a glance before her focus returned to the milk. “I think you’re just a big, brooding puzzle, and I’m here to solve it p>
I let out a breath, half-chuckle, half-sigh. “I’m not a puzzle. I’m just… complicated p>
She shook her head but didn’t respond, opting instead to make the hot chocolate. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It wasn’t the kind of silence that hung in the air, thick and heavy like the one I had with Mai. This one felt lighter—like it was allowing space for something else, something that didn’t need words. It felt like breathing.
“So Nova spoke again, breaking the quiet like a crack in the ice. “You’ve got that whole mysterious vibe going on, huh p>
I blinked at her, thrown off by the random question. “What p>
She grinned, finally turning to face me as she set the mugs on the table. “I’m just saying, you’ve got that ’I don’t belong anywhere’ look, you know?” She raised an eyebrow. “It’s the whole ’I’m a misunderstood bad boy’ thing p>
I couldn’t help but snort, a quiet sound that surprised even me. “I’m not misunderstood,” I said, shrugging. “I know exactly what I am p>
“Okay, okay. So you’re not misunderstood. You’re just… a brooding mess who doesn’t talk much,” she teased, her voice light.
I gave her a look, unsure if she was serious or just messing with me. “For the hundredth time, I don’t brood,” I muttered. “I observe p>
She laughed. “Same difference, really. You just observe dramatically. That’s the problem with people like you p>
“People like me?” I asked, feigning offense. “What’s that supposed to mean p>
“Come on,” she said, chuckling. “You know what I mean. You all do that silent, intense thing, and then expect people to get it p>
“Is that so?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah,” she nodded sagely, though there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You’re basically a walking mystery p>
I had to smile at her antics. It was ridiculous, really. Here I was, a guy whose emotions were a mess of anger and resentment, and she was treating me like the world’s most intriguing puzzle. Her confidence was both disarming and comforting.
She handed me the mug with a grin. “Drink. Hot chocolate is magical p>
I took the mug and stared at it for a moment, unsure how to approach something so simple, so normal. I didn’t know how to handle these small things people did, the little rituals of everyday life. But I didn’t want to overthink it, so I took a sip.
And… it was good.
I looked up at Nova, meeting her gaze. She was watching me expectantly. “Well?” she asked. “What do you think p>
I blinked, then shrugged. “It’s… fine p>
“Fine?” She looked horrified. “It’s amazing p>
I couldn’t help but laugh, and she joined in, the sound filling the room.
The next couple of hours felt like they belonged to another life—one where I wasn’t filled with rage and pain, where I wasn’t consumed by the kind of sorrow that could swallow me whole. We talked about everything and nothing—about her favorite music, the bands she loved, about food (and her surprisingly detailed knowledge of how to make spaghetti), and somehow, even in the midst of all this normalcy, I felt a strange sense of peace.
I wasn’t sure what I expected when I came here tonight. I didn’t think I was looking for a distraction, but that’s exactly what I found. Nova had this way of making everything seem like a game. A game I didn’t know the rules to, but I wanted to play.
At one point, she threw a pillow at me.
“You’re too serious,” she said, grinning. “You need to lighten up p>
I caught it mid-air and tossed it back at her. “I’m not serious. I’m just… focused p>
She laughed. “Focused on what? Your deep thoughts about the meaning of life p>
“I don’t think about that,” I muttered. “I just think about… stuff p>
“You need a hobby,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“A hobby?” I repeated, not sure what to do with the idea. “Like what p>
She smirked. “You can’t just brood all the time. You need something to… I don’t know, balance it out. Like knitting or bird-watching or something p>
“Bird-watching?” I stared at her, unsure whether to be offended or amused.
“Yeah!” She said enthusiastically. “You know, sitting in a tree with binoculars, quietly judging birds for being too loud p>
“Sounds boring,” I said, making a face.
She laughed, loud and bright, and I found myself smiling at the sound.
It was so strange. Nova was so easy to be around. She didn’t ask about Mai, Liam or Ollie, or about the anger I was always battling. She didn’t pry into things she didn’t need to know. She just let me be.
After a while, we settled on the couch, pulling a blanket over ourselves. The soft glow of the television illuminated the room, and the hum of the movie filled the space between us. I expected to feel awkward—out of place in such an intimate setting—but instead, it felt… right. Her warmth was reassuring, her presence grounding, as if the chaos in my mind finally had something to hold onto.
Nova nestled against me, her head resting lightly on my shoulder. Every now and then, she would shift, getting more comfortable, and each time, my heart would stutter just a little.
The movie played, but I barely registered it. It was just noise, a distraction, and honestly, I didn’t care about it. The real focus was her—how she spoke, how she laughed at things I didn’t fully understand, how effortlessly she filled the silence.
Nova had this habit of commenting on everything, her voice animated even over the dull dialogue of the movie. “Okay, but why is this guy running toward danger like an idiot? Has he never seen a horror movie before?” She threw her hands up dramatically. “Like, dude, turn around. Just turn around p>
I huffed a small laugh, shaking my head. “Maybe he thinks he’s the main character. Plot armor and all that p>
She gasped. “No one is safe! Have you not seen Game of Thrones p>
I smirked. “Can’t say I have p>
Her head snapped up so fast I thought she might give herself whiplash. “Wait—hold on. You haven’t watched Game of Thrones?” She pulled away slightly to look at me, horror evident in her eyes. “How have we been friends this long and I didn’t know this p>
I shrugged. “We haven’t been friends that long, and besides, I’m full of surprises p>
Nova narrowed her eyes at me, then snuggled back into my side with a sigh. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. But I’m adding it to my list of things to educate you on p>
There was a pause, the movie continuing in the background, before she spoke again, quieter this time. “You know, you’ve got this whole I’m lost thing going on. But I don’t know. I think you’re just waiting for someone to talk to you p>
I glanced down at her, caught off guard by her words. “I don’t… need people,” I said, though even to my own ears, it sounded like a weak defense.
She tilted her head up at me, her expression soft but searching. “Maybe you don’t. But everyone needs someone p>
Her words settled deep, touching something raw inside me. I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong. That no one truly liked me. But the truth was, sitting there, with her warmth pressed against me, her voice lulling me into a sense of ease I hadn’t felt in a long time—I realized I didn’t want to be alone.
I didn’t answer, not because I disagreed, but because I wasn’t sure how to put it into words. Instead, I let the moment stretch, let the comfort of her presence seep into my bones.
For once, I didn’t feel like an outsider.
For once, I felt like I could just… exist.
And for now, that was enough.