Time passed.
Erica kept herself busy—school, studying, hanging out with Risha. Anything to keep her mind off Nicole. She laughed louder than she used to, smiled quicker, talked more during group work. It was a performance she'd grown used to. An armor.
But no matter how hard she tried, there were always reminders.
Nicole's favorite song would come on unexpectedly in a café, and it would take everything in Erica not to freeze. She'd chew her lip raw pretending not to hear the lyrics. She didn't hum it anymore, but it still played in her head sometimes—soft and sad.
The empty space beside her in class still hurt. No matter how many times Risha sat next to her, or Audrey slipped her jokes on sticky notes, that side felt colder. Like the ghost of someone still sat there, invisible to everyone but Erica.
Worst of all were the nights.
Some nights, she dreamed about Nicole. Not just fleeting dreams—long ones. Soft ones. Nicole's laughter echoing in the background. Nicole's hand brushing hers. Nicole whispering something only dream-Erica could understand. Then she'd wake up with her chest aching, breath caught in her throat.
Sometimes, she reached out in the darkness, fingers searching.
But there was never anyone there.
And every time, it hurt just the same.
---
One afternoon after class, with her books shoved messily into her bag and her phone tucked away on silent, Erica headed to the park alone. The sky was cloudy, soft gray light casting everything in a sleepy haze. The kind of day that made everything feel slower—quieter. Even her footsteps on the gravel path sounded distant.
She needed to breathe. Just for a while.
No studying. No pretending. Just wind, grass, and stillness.
She walked toward the lake near the back of the park, her hands in her pockets, head down, letting her feet guide her.
And then she heard it.
"ERICA! WAIT!"
She turned.
There, jogging toward her in a rush of disheveled hair and oversized hoodie, was Angel—her hand held high, waving something pink and fluffy. Cotton candy.
Angel stopped in front of her, panting. "Saving your sad little emo soul, obviously." She grinned, handing Erica one of the cotton candies. "Peace offering. Truce. Bribery. Take your pick."
Erica stared at the cotton candy. "…Where did you even—?"
"There's a cart near the fountain. I saw you walking and ran after you like a stalker. Cute, right?"
Erica rolled her eyes, but she took the candy. "You didn't have to."
"Yeah, but you looked like someone about to narrate a sad indie film. All you were missing was rain and piano music."
Erica couldn't help the small laugh that slipped out. "God, you're annoying."
Angel gasped, placing a hand over her heart. "I bring you sugar and charm and this is the thanks I get? Wow."
They walked together in silence for a while, the only sounds the occasional rustling of leaves and the soft crunch of gravel beneath their shoes.
Angel was the first to break the silence again. "You okay?"
Erica hesitated. "Yeah. Just… thinking."
"You've been doing that a lot lately."
Erica glanced at her. "Doing what?"
"Thinking. Wandering off. Wearing that weird, distant face. Like you're here but not really."
Erica looked down at her shoes. She didn't respond.
Angel bumped her shoulder gently. "Is it Nicole?"
The name hit like a small punch in the chest. Even now, months later, hearing it spoken aloud still made her flinch.
Erica didn't answer, but her silence said enough.
Angel sighed. "She's not worth you being this quiet."
"She's not a bad person," Erica murmured. "Things just… fell apart."
"She broke your heart, Erica."
"I let it break," she corrected softly. "There's a difference."
Angel fell quiet, looking at her with something unreadable in her eyes. Then she gave a crooked smile and held up the cotton candy again.
"Alright, no more sad talk. We're having a park date now."
Erica raised an eyebrow. "Park date?"
"Yup. You didn't know? I just tricked you into it."
"I swear, you're the worst at flirting."
"Oh? Who said I was flirting?"
"…You literally just said this was a date."
Angel smirked. "So you do think I'm flirting."
Erica blinked, then groaned. "You're exhausting."
"And yet, you haven't walked away."
"Because you chased me with sugar like a psycho."
Angel laughed, and the sound was so full and warm it made Erica's chest ache. For a moment, she let herself smile—really smile.
They walked toward a quiet bench overlooking the lake and sat down. A cool breeze passed, fluttering strands of Erica's hair across her face. Angel reached out and tucked one behind her ear.
The gesture made Erica freeze.
"You really don't know how pretty you are when you're not pretending to be okay," Angel said softly.
Erica blinked. "Don't—"
"Flirt? Too late." Angel grinned, then popped a piece of cotton candy into her mouth. "Mmm. This stuff's so sweet, I think I just got diabetes."
Erica turned away, cheeks warming. "You're seriously weird."
"And you're seriously cute when you blush."
"Shut up."
They sat for a while like that—trading quiet, trading sugar. The kind of silence that didn't need to be filled with words. The kind that felt like comfort.
After a while, Angel leaned back on the bench, arms stretched out, one resting behind Erica's shoulder.
"I know I joke around a lot," she said, voice suddenly softer. "But I mean it, Erica. You don't have to go through everything alone."
Erica looked at her, something fragile flickering in her chest. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not. But I can sit with you while it's hard."
Erica looked away again, teeth pressing into her bottom lip. Her voice was quiet when she spoke.
"I don't want to fall for someone again just to lose them."
Angel didn't answer right away. Then she leaned closer, her breath warm against Erica's ear.
"Then don't fall," she whispered. "Let it be slow. Let it be real."
Erica turned her head slightly—close enough to see the way Angel's eyes watched her, patient but unflinching.
"You're serious about this?" she asked.
Angel gave a small nod. "More serious than I've ever been."
For a moment, Erica felt the world pause. The wind stilled. The sounds of kids playing in the distance faded. All that remained was the steady thrum of her heart and the weight of Angel's gaze.
Then Angel smirked.
"But if you're not ready, I can wait. I'm cool like that."
Erica laughed. "You're such an idiot."
"An idiot with excellent taste."
They shared a look then—brief, meaningful, not quite a confession but something close.
Then Erica stood up and dusted off her jeans. "Come on, we should head back before it gets dark."
Angel followed, twirling her half-finished cotton candy like a baton. "So… does this mean you'll let me take you out on a real date sometime?"
Erica glanced at her, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Maybe."
"Oh? That's not a no."
"It's not a yes either."
Angel laughed, skipping ahead a few steps and walking backward, facing Erica. "I'll take my chances. A 'maybe' from you is practically a confession."
Erica smiled, watching her.
Maybe it wasn't a confession.
But for the first time in a long while, it wasn't a goodbye either.
And that was enough.