Something Quiet Begins

They stayed longer than they should have. Neither of them said it out loud. It simply… happened. The hallway floor was cool through the fabric of Jonas’s race suit, the kind of cold that only settled in once the noise stopped and your body remembered it could feel things again. Clara leaned back against the wall beside him, shoulder pressed lightly to his. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to be felt.

At first, the silence returned the way it always did — careful, almost shy. Like it was asking permission. Then, slowly, it softened, stretching out until it didn’t feel like silence anymore. Just space. Jonas checked the time on his watch. Just once. The screen lit his wrist in a pale glow before fading again. He didn’t comment on it. Didn’t sigh. Didn’t move. Clara noticed anyway. She always noticed.

She should have gone back already. She knew the rhythm of post-race chaos by heart, the way people scattered, regrouped, forgot things, remembered things, needed her. Someone would be calling for her soon. Someone always was. But she stayed where she was, knees drawn up, hands resting loosely in her lap like she wasn’t counting the seconds at all. Her fingers kept fidgeting. She folded them together. Unfolded them. Pressed her thumbs together. Stopped. Then started again.

Jonas’s gaze drifted down without thinking, not to her face, but to the small movements of her hands. That was when he noticed it. A crease in the sleeve of his suit. It wasn’t much. Just a fold where the fabric hadn’t settled right after he’d leaned back. But it bothered her. He could tell.

Without thinking — without asking herself should I? — Clara reached out and smoothed it.

Jonas froze. Not dramatically. Not stiff. Just… paused. Like if he stayed perfectly still, the moment wouldn’t realize it existed and demand something from him. Her touch was light. Thoughtless in the way only familiar things are. Fingers warm, precise, brushing once, then again. She realized what she was doing halfway through. Her hand stilled.

“Oh—” She pulled back quickly, ears going pink almost instantly. “Sorry. I—I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” he said at the same time, shaking his head.

Their words overlapped awkwardly.

She laughed under her breath, embarrassed, and tucked her hands back into her sleeves like she could hide them there. “I just— it was bothering me.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I get that.”

He didn’t move the sleeve. They sat like that for a while longer, shoulders still touching. Every small shift felt louder than it should have. Clara leaned forward, then back again, clearly unsure what to do with herself now that she’d crossed an invisible line.

“So,” she said softly, glancing at the floor. “You, uh… holding up?”

Jonas huffed a quiet laugh. “Physically? Barely. Mentally? Also barely.”

She smiled, relieved. “Same.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Jet lag?”

“And everything lag,” she replied. “My body thinks it’s in one country, my brain’s in another, and my coffee schedule is completely lost.”

“Ah. The holy trinity.”

She snorted, immediately covering her mouth. “Don’t make me laugh. It’s too late for that.”

He smiled, real this time. “You always say that.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Because it’s true.”

They fell quiet again, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt… shared.

The wind stirred faintly outside, carrying the sound of leaves brushing together. Suzuka always did this after everyone left,  stripped itself down to something simple and calm. “I forget sometimes,” Jonas said, staring at the opposite wall. “How quiet circuits get when everyone’s gone.” Clara hummed in agreement, rocking slightly on her heels. “That’s my favorite part.” He glanced at her. “Yeah?”

She nodded, hugging her knees a little tighter. “It’s like the place exhales. Like it’s tired of performing.” 

He blinked, then smiled faintly. “That makes sense.”

She tilted her head. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

“I kind of am.”

She puffed her cheeks out slightly, pouting without realizing it. “Rude.”

He laughed softly. “I meant it in a good way.”

“…You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

Her pout softened into a shy smile.

Another quiet stretch followed. This one felt deliberate. Comfortable. The kind you don’t rush to fill just because you feel like you should. Clara rubbed her hands together absently. Jonas noticed immediately. “You’re cold,” he said.

She blinked. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth to argue — habit, then paused. Looked down at her hands. Wiggled her fingers once.

“…Maybe a little,” she admitted.

Without a word, Jonas shrugged out of his jacket. The movement was unhurried, casual. He held it out toward her like it was the most natural thing in the world. She stared at it.

“No, that’s—” Her hands lifted instinctively. “I’m fine. You’ll get cold.”

“I won’t.”

She hesitated, eyes flicking from the jacket to his face. Her cheeks flushed deeper. “…You’re really bad at convincing people, you know.” He smiled. 

“Just take it.”

“…You’re stubborn.”

“Yes. Only for you.”

She took the jacket. It swallowed her whole. The sleeves fell past her hands, and she laughed quietly as she tried to adjust them. The fabric was warm, not just temperature-warm, but him-warm. It smelled faintly of coffee and asphalt and something she didn’t have a word for. She tugged the collar closer around her neck. “It’s huge,” she said.

“That’s the point.”

She looked down, smiling without meaning to. When she glanced back up, she caught him watching her. Their eyes locked. Neither of them looked away. Her breath hitched, just a little. Jonas cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “It… suits you.”

Her face went red immediately. “D-don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

She hid her mouth behind the sleeve, mumbling, “Like that.”

He laughed quietly. “Sorry.”

She peeked over the sleeve. “You’re not sorry.”

“…Maybe not.”

The warmth between them felt thicker now, like it had weight. Clara leaned back again, shoulder pressing into his. This time, neither of them pretended not to notice. “I like Suzuka,” she said softly. “It’s gentle. For a circuit.” Jonas nodded. “It doesn’t try to scare you. It just… waits.”

She smiled. “You always talk about tracks like they’re people.” 

He puffed his cheeks out slightly, mock-offended. “They deserve respect too.” 

She giggled — a small, surprised sound. Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh. That just slipped out.”

He smiled wider. “I’ll take it.”

A faint crackle cut through the moment. Her radio flickered to life at her waist, voices distant but real. Clara stiffened, shoulders tightening. The sound faded, but the reminder didn’t.

“…I should go,” she said quietly.

Jonas nodded, already standing. The movement felt reluctant, like pulling himself out of something warm. She stood too, jacket still draped over her shoulders. They faced each other in the narrow hallway, too close and not close enough. She smoothed the front of the jacket, fingers lingering. “I’ll give this back later.”

“Keep it,” he said. “For now.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

There was a pause. Then another.

“…Hey,” she said suddenly, fidgeting again. “Um— wait.”

He stopped, looking back at her. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, then let out a small breath like she was bracing herself. “This might be awkward.” He smiled faintly. “You’re allowed one awkward thing.”

“…Only one?”

“Today, yeah.”

That earned a quiet laugh. She looked down, then back up, cheeks already warming. “I was just thinking, we’ll probably both disappear again after this.”

He didn’t argue with that.

“So,” she continued, words coming out a little faster now, “maybe we should… not make it so easy to disappear.”

Jonas studied her for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”

She blinked. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “That makes sense.”

He unlocked it and held it out toward her without ceremony. She froze for half a beat, then took it. Their fingers brushed, light, brief, but both of them noticed. Her grip tightened just slightly before she relaxed again. She typed her number in carefully, double-checked it, then added her name like she was afraid the phone might forget her. When she handed it back, their hands lingered, not by accident.

“…I’ll text you,” she said quietly, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“I will wait,” he replied.

That made her smile. Footsteps echoed faintly somewhere beyond the corner, voices growing closer. The world was beginning to remember them again. Clara stepped back reluctantly. Then paused. Jonas was still watching her.

She laughed softly, turned, and walked away, jacket still warm around her shoulders. They did not reunite. But they had chosen not to lose each other again. And for now, that was enough.