Aleah's POV
Ivy and I walked to class, and for some reason, I kept expecting her to peel away — to say goodbye, to disappear into some other hallway like most people do after kindness has served its moment. But she didn't. She stayed beside me, her footsteps matching mine like we'd always walked this way.
She didn't talk much, and neither did I. But her silence didn't press on my chest — it rested beside me, soft and unbothered. When we reached the classroom, she followed me in without hesitation and slid into the empty seat next to mine, as if it had always been waiting for her.
She didn't ask permission. She didn't need to.
I sat down, slowly, quietly stunned by the simplicity of her presence. I didn't have to perform. I didn't have to shrink or shine. There was no reaching, no contorting myself to be enough. I just… sat.
She turned to me with a small, warm smile — the kind that asked for nothing and gave everything.
And for once, my thoughts, usually loud and clawing, stilled.
Like they finally found a place to rest.