(Tension breaks. Kade opens up. Viera pushes too far. And something inside him finally snaps.)
Kade
There are days where silence is survival.
And days where silence is a cage.
Today was the second kind.
He hadn't meant to snap.
Not really.
Not at her.
But pressure builds. Always.
And eventually, even the quietest boys bleed.
It started simple.
The library. Their table.
Viera had arrived early today. Earlier than usual. Her eyeliner was sharp, her heels louder. Something was off in her mood. The air around her shimmered with unsaid things.
She didn't smile when she sat down.
Neither did he.
Still, they opened their books in unison. A ritual now.
Familiar.
Safe.
Until she broke it.
Viera
He was withdrawn again.
Not in the usual quiet way, but tight. Coiled. Like a loaded spring.
She noticed the cut above his eyebrow—new. Thin, red, crusting. His hoodie sleeves were longer today, tugged over his knuckles.
She tried not to stare.
He caught her anyway.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
He didn't look up.
"Nothing."
She hated that word.
It was the word people used to bury truth under denial.
So she pressed. "Did someone hurt you?"
A pause.
His jaw tightened. "I said nothing."
Her heart pinched.
Then—against her better judgment—she pushed again.
"Was it your father?"
The air changed. Instantly.
Like all the oxygen had been pulled from the room.
Kade looked up. Slowly.
And his eyes—
His eyes were knives.
Kade
He couldn't breathe.
He wasn't even sure how she knew.
He'd never told her. Never let it slip. Never mentioned the bruises or the nights spent curled in the bathtub, hoping the old man wouldn't find him awake.
But she knew.
She asked.
And suddenly, the world tilted.
"This isn't a game," he said, voice like rust. "Don't act like it is."
Viera blinked. "I'm not—"
"You think this is some kind of mystery? A little puzzle for the pretty girl to solve? You want the tragic loner boy so you can feel good about yourself?"
He didn't mean to raise his voice.
But God, it felt good to.
"You don't know what it's like," he growled. "To live in a house where even the walls flinch. To wake up and wonder if you'll leave for school with your ribs intact. To hear footsteps and hope it's a ghost instead of your father."
Viera froze.
The words hung between them—bloody, sharp, alive.
Kade stood, chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"Go back to your world, Viera."
And just like that—
He left.
Viera
She didn't breathe for nearly a minute.
Not because he yelled.
But because…
She understood.
Too well.
Not in the same way.
Not with bruises or belt marks.
But she knew what it meant to hide.
To wear masks so long they became your face.
She sat there long after he was gone.
Silent.
Shaken.
Ashamed.
That night, she didn't go to the party Maya invited her to.
She didn't scroll Instagram or respond to Logan's texts.
She sat on her floor, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the ceiling.
And whispered—
"…I'm sorry."
As if he could hear it from wherever he was.
Kade
He didn't sleep.
He paced the room like an animal in a cage.
Every second, his mind replayed the look on her face.
Shock. Hurt. Sadness.
She hadn't deserved that.
But he wasn't built to let people in.
People leave. People break things.
People use broken things to make themselves feel whole.
And yet…
And yet.
She came close.
Too close.
And maybe that's why it hurt.
Because it meant something.
And for the first time in years, Kade realized—
He didn't want to be alone.
Viera
She saw him again three days later.
Back at their table.
He didn't look up.
She sat anyway.
Didn't speak for a long time.
Then—
"I shouldn't have asked."
He stayed quiet.
"I didn't mean to push. I was just… worried."
Still nothing.
So she added, voice softer than it had ever been:
"I don't want to fix you, Kade. I just… want you to know that I see you. All of you. Even the parts you try to hide."
A breath.
Then—
"I don't think you're broken. I think you've just been surviving too long alone."
He finally looked up.
And in his eyes, there was something cracked.
But not sharp.
Something open.
And she knew.
He forgave her.
Not with words.
But with the smallest, saddest smile she'd ever seen.
The Whispering Begins
"She was sitting with him again."
"Didn't he like, yell at her or something?"
"I heard he pushed someone last year. Got suspended."
"Ugh, why him? What's she thinking?"
"Bet she likes damaged boys. So cliché."
The voices grew louder.
The stares lasted longer.
The school began to notice.
And it didn't like what it saw.
But Viera?
She didn't care.
She walked beside him anyway.
Even if it made the world tilt.
Even if it made people stare.
Because for once in her life—
She'd found something real.
And she wasn't going to lose it.
Not now.
End of Chapter 6
Next: Chapter 7 – The Softness Between Scars