The night was unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that felt intentional—like the world itself was holding its breath. We had walked far enough from the city lights.
Out here, it was just us. No noise. No eyes. No weight except the ones we carried inside.
Theo stopped first, turning back toward me with that expression he always wore when he wanted to say something. But then he paused to think more and ultimately decided he did not want to say anymore
. His eyes reflected the dim moonlight, sharp yet soft, steady yet uncertain.
"You're quiet,"
Theo said finally.
"I'm thinking."
I answered, a little surprised that he had decided to talk to me at all.
"About what? About leaving me and thinking how you can have a better life?"
He asked, though there was no bitterness—only a calm honesty.
"No!"
I said softly but firmly.
