Christopher stood by the window, his gaze lost in the vibrant city lights outside. The streetlights cast their glow onto the glass pane, reflecting his solitary silhouette. The memories from that year were like a relentless nightmare, haunting him every night.
Back then, he and Emily Engelbert had been childhood friends. She was the beloved daughter of a well-off family, growing up in the warmth of love and care. Christopher had always silently protected her, whether it was shielding her from the sun when she forgot her umbrella or giving up his favorite pastry just because she casually mentioned wanting to eat it.
She had a delicate face with clear, limpid eyes, reminiscent of an autumn lake. Her long lashes fluttered slightly whenever emotions stirred within her. Her short, silky black hair framed her slender shoulders. Emily was gentle, yet deep down, she was a stubborn girl who firmly believed in what she deemed right.
Between them, it was more than just friendship; it was a bond forged by irreplaceable childhood memories. She was the only light in his cold world. But then, because of a single lie, everything crumbled.
That day, light drizzle fell from the sky. As he walked past the school staircase, Lucas Watson—a classmate—suddenly shoved him hard from behind. Lucas had always appeared well-behaved and polite, but beneath the facade, he was manipulative and envious of Christopher.
He resented Christopher for always being the top student, for always being the one Emily cared about—the one thing Lucas longed for but could never have.
Everything happened too fast. Christopher tumbled down the stairs, pain radiating through his back and head. Before he could react, Lucas dramatically collapsed onto the floor, his face contorted in agony, tears streaming down his cheeks. He clutched his leg, his voice trembling as he sobbed:
"Please… don't hit me… I didn't mean to upset you… I'm sorry…"
When Christopher struggled to sit up, Emily was already there, her eyes filled with disappointment and anger.
"Christopher! What are you doing? How could you push him down the stairs?"
Her voice carried not just reproach but also heartbreak. Her gaze was filled with disbelief as if she no longer recognized the friend she had known for years.
Christopher's heart clenched. His lips moved, but no words came out. The injustice and despair choked him, making it impossible to explain. But it was too late—she had already believed what she saw without giving him a chance to speak.
Her voice was as cold and sharp as a blade, cutting deep into his heart, leaving no space for explanations. Lucas trembled, tears rolling down his face, pretending to be terrified while a smug glint flickered in his eyes.
"He… He pushed me! I don't know why…" Lucas whimpered, clinging to Emily's sleeve like a helpless victim. His stammering voice, his pale face—they painted the perfect picture of someone who had just endured a terrible ordeal.
"No! It wasn't me!" Christopher protested desperately, but Emily refused to listen.
She looked at him with sorrowful eyes. "Christopher, I never thought you were this kind of person."
From that day on, the entire school believed he was a bully. Lucas continued to manipulate everyone, spreading false rumors that only pushed Christopher further into isolation.
The whispers, the judgmental stares, the hidden punches and kicks when no one was looking—he was shunned, ridiculed, beaten. Meanwhile, his parents, already too consumed with work, grew even more distant.
They no longer had time to listen to him, nor did they notice the wounds he hid behind his forced smiles. Christopher endured in silence, but deep down, he knew his family was falling apart, piece by piece. And the most painful part was that Emily—the one person he trusted—had turned her back on him.
From then on, darkness enveloped him. Each school day felt suffocating, like an unbearable weight pressing down on his chest.
Torn pages in his locker, insults scribbled across the blackboard, contemptuous stares that never wavered.
No one believed him. No one stood by him. Loneliness took root in his soul, slowly transforming him into a withdrawn, guarded person.
Then one day, his parents made a decision—they were moving. They made the choice hastily, as if escaping from the rumors, the judgmental glances of neighbors, teachers, and classmates. They didn't explain anything to Christopher.
One morning, before the sun had even risen, he was jolted awake by the sound of hurried packing. Cardboard boxes were stacked high, familiar belongings sealed away in silent urgency. Their family left without a word, as if they had never belonged to that place.
No one noticed. No one cared.
That was how he ended up in the neighborhood where Serena lived. And there, he met her—a girl unlike anyone else.
The day after he moved in, as he sat on a swing beneath a sprawling tree, the doorbell rang unexpectedly.
When he answered, he found a woman and her young daughter standing at the doorstep, carrying a basket of fruit. The little girl, no older than six, had bright, expectant eyes.
"Hello, new neighbor! I'm Serena Egbert. My house is right across from yours!"
She beamed at him, eyes shimmering with excitement. No one in the neighborhood played with her, and she hoped that maybe, just maybe, he could be the friend she had been waiting for.
She didn't look at him with judgment. She didn't try to pry into his past. She simply accepted him, in a way that no one else ever had.
The days spent with Serena gradually eased the pain in his heart.
They rode their bicycles through tree-lined streets, flew kites on open fields, and sat by the riverbank watching the golden hues of sunset. Serena loved telling silly stories, and Christopher would quietly listen, sometimes smiling without realizing it.
But the scars from the past remained. Like wounds that never truly healed, they ached whenever touched. They no longer bled, but the pain was still there, lurking beneath the surface.
Christopher pretended to forget, to move on, but all it took was a familiar scent on the wind, a single word that echoed the past—and the memories would rush back, dragging him down into the abyss once more.
The fear of abandonment, the pain of betrayal, the suffocating loneliness—these were wounds that never faded. He was terrified of opening his heart again, afraid that the moment he cared for someone, they would leave him behind, just as Emily had.
But then, Serena appeared, like a quiet ray of light piercing through his darkness. Subtle but persistent, gentle but unwavering. She didn't try to heal him, didn't force him to change—she simply stayed.
She never knew how much her small actions meant to him—how every furrow of her brow made him worry, how every smile eased his heart. He would stand from a distance, shielding her in silence, never expecting her to notice.
One evening, as the chilly wind howled, Serena sat on the steps, stretching her hands out to catch the winter breeze.
" Christopher, are you cold? " she asked softly, placing her hand over his.
" The winter came early this year! "
" I'm not cold " he murmured, startled but not pulling away. The warmth from her palm seeped into his skin, melting away some of the frost in his heart.
She chuckled lightly, her voice as gentle as the wind.
"You always says that. But if you are, just tell me, okay? I can share some warmth with you."
He didn't respond—only looked at her in silence.
And at that moment, he realized that warmth didn't always come from a blazing fire. Sometimes, all it took was a gentle hand holding his in the cold. It wasn't exactly love, but a quiet warmth, a sense of security that made him want to stay by her side a little longer, to hear her voice one more time. Yet, he didn't dare to cross that line, only keeping everything hidden within his heart.
The night wind blew into the room, carrying with it a chilling cold. He closed his eyes, trying to push away those painful memories. But could the past ever truly rest? Or was it merely waiting for the right moment to return and torment him once more?
Christopher Cyrus gradually opened his heart to Serena, the girl with a warm smile and eyes as bright as the sun after a storm. He knew he had special feelings for her, yet he didn't dare to reveal them too clearly.
Every time she turned back and caught his gaze, she would flash him a radiant, carefree smile. Christopher knew she didn't mean anything special by it, but even that was enough to soothe the wounds in his heart.
It was just those moments of watching her from afar, the brief instances when he silently placed a cup of hot tea on her desk without a word, or those times he unconsciously stood in the sunlight to shield her from the glare in the schoolyard. Serena never noticed—or if she did, she only thought of it as a simple gesture of concern from a friend.
One time, it started pouring rain. Serena fumbled around, realizing she had no umbrella, and could only huddle by the classroom door. Just as she was about to make a run for it, a black umbrella suddenly covered her. She looked up and met Christopher's eyes. He said nothing, only gave her a slight nod before turning away. Raindrops soaked into his shoulders, but he didn't seem to care.
She had always thought of Christopher as a quiet, somewhat distant friend—someone who just happened to be there when she needed him. She had no idea that he had been holding onto a quiet, unspoken tenderness for her all along.
As long as she smiled, even if it wasn't because of him—even if it was just a fleeting moment in an ordinary conversation—it was enough for him. Because as long as she was happy, he was willing to remain in the shadows, silently watching over her, never asking for anything in return.