Some distances are measured in miles. Others exist in the spaces between words left unsaid.
For Akutu and Nathan, the distance wasn't physical. It was something else—something unspoken, something that had settled between them ever since that evening outside the library.
They were still friends. They still studied together, laughed, shared ideas.
But something had shifted.
And neither of them knew how to fix it.
One afternoon, Akutu sat in her hostel room, staring at a message Nathan had sent earlier.
"Hey, I'm busy today. Maybe we'll catch up later."
It was the third time he had canceled their usual meetup.
She typed a response, then deleted it. Typed again. Deleted it again.
She hated this feeling—the uncertainty, the hesitation.
Had she done something wrong?
Or was this just… the natural way things changed?
Nathan, on the other hand, was struggling with his own thoughts.
He hadn't meant to create distance between them. But after that evening, something inside him had panicked.
He liked Akutu. More than a friend should.
But he wasn't sure if she felt the same way.
And if she didn't?
He didn't want to ruin what they already had.
So he chose the safer option—distance.
But the more he tried to stay away, the more he missed her.
Days passed. Then a week.
Akutu tried to focus on her work, but she felt the absence of their conversations, their shared laughter.
She knew she could ask him what was wrong. Confront him. Demand answers.
But something inside her stopped her.
Maybe she was afraid of the answer.
Maybe she wasn't ready to hear it.
So, for now, the silence between them stretched, a quiet, growing gap that neither of them knew how to close.
The pulleys of life had shifted once again.