Roma had meant to refuse, but her legs… her legs were very stubborn and good at walking. She was here now, sitting down just like she had yesterday night while she watched Rian gobble down all the food like a greedy goblin.

'That's a redundancy… goblins are always greedy to begin with. And how can I even compare him to a goblin? Don't you see his face?!'

Roma maintained a peace like a resting ocean. No one would have guessed the turmoil that was going on in her head—not even Rian.

His clones were still walking around the archive, and there were even more now than before. While seated there, she had tried to count them and lost count three times. The highest she reached was thirty-seven, but she knew there had to be more than that. Some were blocked by the towering bookshelves, their movements visible only as shadows passing between gaps in the spines. The soft shuffle of their footsteps created a strange ambient rhythm, paper rustling, books being slotted into place, the occasional murmur of conversation.

Meanwhile, the Rian who had invited her in was seated across from her, looking down at what appeared to be a map. His brow was slightly furrowed, blue eyes tracing invisible paths across the parchment with the kind of focus that made her hesitate to interfere.

She couldn't even stand up. It felt like the moment she moved, that focus would immediately snap toward her, and then she'd have to explain why she was leaving, or why she'd come in the first place, or—

So she just sat there. Trapped in awkward silence.

Her gaze drifted to the young man's blue eyes.

As much as she wanted to nag at her stupid self for staring, she found it strangely comforting to be here. Therapeutic, almost, to watch Rian work. To watch a lot of Rians, rather. All of them carried books, some sorting, some reading, some even conversing with each other in low voices.

'How does he even pull that off? Isn't he practically talking to himself?'

Roma felt one had to ascend to a different level of madness entirely in order to manage something like this.

She froze for a moment, catching her own thoughts.

'Rian is not mad!'

The evidence was sitting—or walking—right in front of her, and yet she made her choice.

'He is not mad!!'

Her jaw set with the unshakable depth of her resolve.

She stole another glance at him, watching with a focus that bordered on obsession as he continued to study the map. The lights caught the sharp angles of his face, and she found herself tracing the line of his jaw, the way his hair fell slightly forward when he leaned in—

Rian must have felt the weight of her stare, because he suddenly shifted his attention and looked up at her. He closed the book he'd been referencing.

Roma immediately threw her face to the side, heart lurching, trying desperately to pretend like she hadn't just been intensely admiring him.

'Be natural! He definitely didn't notice.'

Rian sat straight and exhaled.

"You still haven't told me why you left the room."

"Ah…" She looked down slightly, deflating. The question landed heavier than it should have.

Would she be able to explain it to him? He was the one person she didn't want to have to explain it to.

'Yet you came running straight to him.'

Rian was staring at her now, waiting. And being placed at the receiving end of those blue eyes—eyes that seemed to track every micro-movement of her body—was strange. She didn't like it. But she didn't quite hate it either.

She didn't want him to look away.

Roma fidgeted, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear with a delicate gesture, her gaze fixed mostly downward.

Which was strange to Rian, because she was normally a very bold young lady. She managed to be bold in several annoying ways, actually.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone almost venomous.

Roma stiffened slightly. But the very casualness of his irritation—the familiar sharpness of it—helped her collect herself. She looked at him properly and sighed.

'Of course. Of course, this is Rian. What in the world was I hoping for?!'

She managed a small smile.

"I was just overwhelmed." The words came out quieter than she intended. "You might not know this, but I practically lived all my life tending to my mother on a sick bed. Her condition got drastically worse after she gave birth to me… so this—all of this—it's overwhelming." She gestured vaguely, encompassing the archive, the clones, the impossible reality of the past few days. "I'm not sure how to process this feeling. I'm not even sure if this is what they call happiness. I learned how to smile and laugh by watching my mother do it, and now that I genuinely want to smile and laugh…"

She trailed off, her voice dropping to something barely above a whisper.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right."

Rian looked at the young lady. His gaze persisted for a couple of seconds, and she was almost beginning to squirm beneath its weight when something unexpected happened.

A smile broke across his lips. Unexpected—but definitely handsome.

Roma's eyes went wide.

"It's okay not to be able to feel happiness," Rian said. "I also couldn't feel empathy. Was pretty arrogant until I met you. Sometimes, we think we aren't good at these things. We aren't deserving of these things. We shouldn't be these things."

He paused to lean back in his chair.

"But it doesn't change the fact that we are these things. Oftentimes, we are defined by the world, not by ourselves. The best we can do is understand and navigate that definition—what to settle with, what to change."

He looked into her eyes.

She averted hers.

"Let yourself feel what you feel," he continued. "If you're happy to the point of tears, cry. If you want to laugh? Laugh. If you want to scream? Scream. Let no one hold you back from expression. It is the least you owe yourself." His voice dropped, almost philosophical. "In a world that desires us to be selfless, shouldn't we be allowed to be selfish with our emotions, at the very least?"

Rian… his words.

They left her utterly speechless.

He had said things that touched her scars directly, without flinching. Maybe her self-hatred didn't matter. Maybe all that mattered was what her mother thought of her. What her brother thought. What her family saw when they looked at her.

Maybe she just needed some navigation of her own to do. To become a better person—for them, if not for herself.

Her shoulders relaxed. She lowered her head for a moment, letting the tension bleed out.

"So…" Her voice came out low, almost shy. Her eyes stole another glance at Rian. "You're saying it's okay to cry?"

Rian nodded, already opening the book in front of him again.

"It's okay to do whatever you want to do."

She peeked at him.

"You don't hate girls who cry?"

Rian responded without looking up.

"Why would I? It's none of my business."

Roma's expression shattered like stone.

She didn't know if she would have preferred for him to say "yes".

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