rise by Laurel Krown

Harlan saw her before she saw him.

She stood under the library’s entry light with her backpack slung behind one shoulder, her hair falling down her back in soft waves that caught the glow overhead. The contrast made her stand out even more, warm undertones against the cold Wednesday night. Her blue eyes looked almost unreal in the dark, catching the light with every small movement.

Her gaze lifted as he pulled in.
She smiled, small and soft.

And for a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe.

She looks different at night, he thought, watching the cool air turn her breath to mist. Calmer. Or maybe I just see it more clearly now.

She stepped into the passenger seat, closing the door lightly behind her. The cabin light flickered on for a moment, illuminating her deep brown skin with its golden undertone, her long lashes casting shadows across her cheeks, her lips parted slightly with the cold. There was a faint pink rising along her cheeks, making her look warm even while shivering.

“Hey,” she said, breath fogging slightly.

“Hey,” he replied, voice lower than he intended.

She held her hands in front of the heater vent, her shoulders curling forward as the warmth hit her palms. He watched her half a second too long before turning back to the road, jaw tightening at how obvious it felt.

She looked at him, her expression playful. “You say ‘yeah’ a lot.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

She laughed, and it completely changed her face. Her smile widened, a small dimple forming on one side. Something warm flickered in his chest, surprising him with its intensity.

They didn’t talk again until they pulled into the food cart lot. The lights cast a soft, warm glow across her hair, making highlights appear where shadows usually lived. She wrapped her arms around herself as they walked, the slight tremor in her shoulders betraying how cold she really was.

When she sat down at one of the outdoor tables, she tucked her hair behind her ear. A small beauty mark beneath her left eye caught the light. He didn’t mean to stare at it.
But he did.

She shivered again.

“You cold?” he asked.

She let out a soft laugh. “Maybe.”

He watched her breath leave her lips, visible and delicate in the air.

Something protective stirred in him, subtle but undeniable.

The food still had a long wait, so he spoke without thinking. “When the food is ready, we can eat in my truck. Or drive up to Rocky Butte. It’s warmer there.”

Her eyes widened slightly, bright and almost crystalline under the lights. Then she smiled, slow and grateful, warming her entire face.

“Deal.”

He felt the corner of his mouth lift, reluctant but real.

They drove up the winding road until Portland opened beneath them in a sea of gold. Streetlights and bridges glowed across the darkness, reflecting against the water below. When he parked, she leaned closer to the window, pressing her palm lightly to the cool glass.

“Wow,” she whispered.

The word wasn’t enough to match the awe on her face. Her eyes softened. Her lips parted slightly. She looked completely unguarded, the city lights reflecting in her irises like tiny constellations.

Inside the truck, she curled slightly inward as she took her first bite of her burger, sitting closer to the heater. A loose strand of hair slipped forward, brushing her cheek. She tucked her legs in a little, warming her hands on her drink. Her lashes lowered whenever she focused on a thought, lifting again when she found something amusing.

He pretended to look at the city, but he watched her in the reflection on the window.

After they finished eating, she leaned back with a slow exhale, her shoulders relaxing as the warmth of the truck settled into her. “This is really nice.”

His eyes drifted to her lips first, then her eyes. She wasn’t looking at him.
He was almost grateful for that.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

Silence settled between them, warm and full, not empty.

Then she asked, “Tell me about your night.”

He hesitated.
His throat worked.
He looked down at his hands.

“My parents are getting divorced.”

Her lips parted instantly. Her brows lifted, then softened, her eyes warming with something gentle and full. She leaned in a little before catching herself, her fingers curling against her knees.

“What happened?” she asked.

He told her everything, his voice steady but low. With every sentence, her face changed in small ways. Her brows pinched with concern. Her eyes glistened when he mentioned Scar crying. Her mouth tightened when he described the silence at dinner.

“That’s… a lot, Harlan,” she said quietly. “Your sister must be terrified.”

He nodded once. “I don’t care what happens with them. I just care about her.”

Her expression softened even more. Her eyes glowed with quiet empathy. “She’s lucky she has you.”

He exhaled slowly, almost like he wasn’t used to being seen that easily.

Then she looked down at her lap. “My parents fought last night too.”

He turned to her fully, face sharpening with focus. “About what?”

“Everything,” she said. “Money. My dad drinking again. And he said things. He said I’m not his daughter.”

Harlan’s entire expression changed. His jaw hardened. His eyes darkened, sharp and dangerous.

“He said that?” His voice was low.

She nodded, eyes dropping. “He does that when he’s drunk. I don’t even know why it still hurts.”

“It would hurt anyone,” he said quietly, firmly. “It’s not your fault.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. She blinked quickly, trying to keep her eyes from watering.

“I go to Cannon Beach so much because it’s peaceful,” she admitted. “Beth makes life feel softer.”

“She would,” Harlan said. “You talk about her like she’s family.”

“She kind of is,” she whispered.

She looked at him again. “So… when I saw you at Bradley’s diner, you didn’t think I was ignoring you, right?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “I didn’t think anything. I just… didn’t know what to do.”

She smiled a little. “That makes two of us.”

He finally looked at her, fully. “You still looked at me. At the mixer. Like you were trying to figure me out.”

She blinked, cheeks warming. “I do that with everyone.”

“No,” he said softly. “It was different.”

The truth of it hit her. Her lips parted slightly, her breath stuttering. She looked away for a moment, gathering herself.

“I thought you didn’t care,” she admitted quietly.

He held her gaze.
Unmoving.
Honest.

“I did.”

Her face softened, color blooming across her cheeks, a tenderness flickering in her eyes.

“Okay, I have to tell you something,” she said suddenly.

“What.”

“On Sunday night, when I was with Beth closing up the café… your friends came by. Jack and Damian. Their car died. I helped them jump it.”

He stared at her, caught off guard. “What?”

She nodded, amused. “Yeah. They recognized me from the diner.”

His brows pinched instantly, confusion flickering across his face. “They didn’t tell me.”

“Maybe they forgot?”

“No,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “They wouldn’t forget.”

A thought flickered behind his eyes, sharp and unsettled.

Why didn’t they tell me?
What are they doing?

She laughed softly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me,” he said simply.

Laya tilted her head, studying him. “You sound like a control freak.”

“I probably am.”

Her laughter filled the truck again, warm and sweet and completely unrestrained.

He let himself look at her, really look at her, letting the quiet moment stretch until it felt like the beginning of something neither of them could name yet. The city glowed below them, warm and distant, but inside the truck everything felt close. He could hear her breathing. He could feel her presence settling next to him in a way that eased something tight in his chest.

He didn’t plan what he said next. It slipped out, honest and unfiltered.

“I think you have a beautiful smile.”

Her head snapped slightly toward him, eyes widening just a fraction. Then her expression softened into something warm, something unexpectedly vulnerable.

“Really,” she asked, almost whispering.

He nodded. “I like it when you laugh too.”

Color rose along her cheeks, faint but unmistakable. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as if trying to hide how the compliment landed.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “That actually means a lot. I don’t really get compliments from guys.”

He turned to her fully, brows narrowing. “I find that hard to believe.”

She gave a small laugh, almost embarrassed. “I mean, guys say I’m pretty sometimes, but that’s just… looks. Anyone can be pretty. That kind of compliment doesn’t feel like anything.”

She paused, tapping her fingers lightly on her thigh. “But when you said you liked my smile… I don’t know. It felt different.”

He watched her carefully, the delicate shift in her posture, the way her lashes lowered as she gathered her thoughts.

“I get self conscious about it,” she admitted softly. “My teeth aren’t perfectly straight. Even after braces.”

He let out a quiet breath, genuine and sure. “I like your smile because it’s yours. It’s unique. No one else has it.”

Her lips parted slightly, eyes widening before a soft smile appeared. “That’s exactly what I mean,” she said. “That kind of compliment actually means something. It’s more than just saying someone is pretty.”

Silence wrapped around them briefly, warm and charged.

Then she looked at him again, expression shifting into something bold and honest.

“You know,” she said, voice lowering, “I think you’re unbelievably beautiful.”

He blinked, stunned. The words hit him unexpectedly hard. His jaw tightened, not in discomfort but in a quiet attempt to keep his reaction contained. Her eyes searched his, sincere and unwavering.

“Your attractiveness stands out,” she continued. “More than other guys I’ve met.”

He stared at her, unable to hide the slight widening of his eyes.

“And Jack is really handsome too,” she said thoughtfully. “But not handsome in a way where I’d date him. Just… noticeably handsome.”

Something sharp flickered inside him. Jealousy. Immediate and swift. It startled him. He had no idea where it came from or why it hit so hard. He kept his face still, but Laya caught the faint tension in his jaw.

She tilted her head, studying him with a tiny amused smirk, like she noticed something he didn’t want her to.

Before he could say anything, she added softly, “But if I were interested in dating… I would date you.”

His breath stilled.

Then she turned more fully toward him, the blue in her eyes deepening under the warm glow of the truck’s cabin lights.

“But I’m focused on my degree,” she said. “And like I told you in the library, dating and relationships are just a distraction. I’m not looking for anything like that right now.”

He swallowed, nodding once, keeping his eyes steady even as something inside him pulled toward her.

She held his gaze for a long moment before speaking again, her voice even softer.

“But I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more.”

His heartbeat stumbled.

“I don’t really want this night to end,” she admitted, her voice carrying a quiet sincerity that wrapped around him like warmth. “I really like talking to you. Which is new for me because I don’t normally care enough to talk to guys at school.” She offered a shy, genuine smile. “Just you.”

For a moment Harlan did not say anything. His eyes stayed on her, steady and unreadable, but something softened in them.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, thoughtful. “I have never heard a girl talk like you.”

Laya blinked, surprised by his honesty. “That is because I am myself. I am not like other girls. So do not compare me to them.”

His brows lifted slightly and he shook his head once, slow. “I did not mean it in a comparing way. And I definitely did not mean to offend you.”

Her expression eased. She nodded for him to continue.

“I just meant…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Girls who talk to me do not usually say things like that. They do not tell me they want to get to know me on a deeper level. They definitely do not tell me I am attractive and then tell me they are not interested in dating right after.” His lips twitched, almost amused. “You always sound sure of yourself. Confident. Focused.”

The compliment hit her like a warm breeze. Her cheeks flushed softly, but she kept her gaze steady on him.

He continued, voice quieter. “I would want my sister to look up to someone like you. Someone focused on her future and her goals.”

Her expression softened. “That is really sweet of you.”

“It is true,” he said. “When I think about Scar getting distracted by boys, it pisses me off.”

Laya smiled knowingly. “Of course it does. She is your sister. You are protective. And you know how guys really think. So it makes sense.”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, as if the logic clicked into place. “When you put it that way… yeah. It makes sense.”

He looked at her again, more closely this time, and something gentle passed through his expression. “When I am married someday, I want to support whatever dream my wife has. Whatever she wants to do. I will make sure I am financially stable and secure so if she wants to move somewhere, I will go where she goes.”

Laya’s breath caught for a moment. She sat still, absorbing the weight of his words. His tone was not performative. It was steady, grounded, sincere. A vision spoken with conviction, not fantasy.

“That is…” She shook her head softly, eyes lowering before she looked back at him. “I have never heard a guy talk like that.”

Her voice grew quieter, more vulnerable. “My dad is not supportive of my mom. He puts her down a lot. Especially about school. She only has an associate’s degree, and he always reminds her of it. It is exhausting to watch.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear again, almost self-soothing. “And with my friend Cassie, the guys she dates always make her do whatever they want to do. Cassie just follows along. She bends so easily. It makes me nervous for her.”

Harlan listened intently, face tightening with a quiet judgment she knew wasn’t aimed at her, but at the men she described.

“I respect you, Harlan,” she said honestly. “A lot.”

The words settled between them like something solid and grounding.

She looked down at her hands, tracing her thumb over her palm, fighting the rush of thoughts swirling in her head. Because the truth rose uninvited, startling her.

If that is really how he thinks… I would marry someone like him.

She bit the inside of her cheek, pushing the thought away quickly. She would never say that aloud. She was not about to let Harlan know she might be growing an attraction to him. Compliments did not mean romance. Compliments, to her, were intentional, rooted in kindness.

And she knew, from psychology, that most men did not receive compliments as often as women. Men remembered every kind word. They held onto them longer. She did not want him to misunderstand her.

But sitting here, next to him, it was impossible to ignore the quiet pull forming between them.

She looked up again, meeting his eyes with a small, earnest smile.

“I like the way you think,” she said softly. “And I am really glad you asked me out tonight. Even if you did not call it that.”

His breath stalled for a moment.

And in the warm cab of his truck, overlooking the city lights, something shifted again.

Soft.
Slow.
Undeniable.

A beginning growing roots.