Juni didn't say it right away. He tried to swallow it down like everything else.
They were sitting on the bus, shoulder to shoulder, city sliding past in soft blurs. Elian was talking about program options—nothing concrete, just possibilities.
Juni nodded in the right places. Smiled when he was supposed to. But a familiar ache had started to form in his chest. What if he moves forward without me?
Juni had survived by expecting loss.
People left. Circumstances changed. Safety dissolved.
It had taught him not to hope too loudly. But Elian made that instinct harder to hold onto.
They got off a stop early, walking the rest of the way under a sky beginning to dim. "…Can I ask you something?" Juni said.
Elian glanced at him. "Always."
Juni slowed. "…What if your future pulls you somewhere I can't follow?"
The question trembled as it landed. Elian stopped walking. He didn't reach out right away. He looked at Juni carefully. "I don't know where I'll end up," he said honestly. "And I won't lie and say everything will be simple."
Juni nodded, bracing.
"But," Elian continued, "I do know I won't build a future by pretending you're temporary."
Juni's breath hitched.
"I can't promise we'll always be in the same place," Elian said. "But I can promise I won't leave without talking to you."
Juni swallowed hard. "…That's not the same as staying."
"No," Elian agreed. "It's not."
A pause.
"But it's staying present."
They resumed walking. Juni stared at the ground for a while. "…I'm scared I'll become something you outgrow," he admitted.
Elian stopped him gently with a hand at his wrist. "Juni," he said softly. "You're not a phase." The certainty in his voice stilled something deep inside Juni.
They stood there as the first streetlights flickered on. Juni leaned forward, resting his forehead briefly against Elian's shoulder.
Not seeking reassurance. Just grounding himself.
"…Okay," Juni murmured. "I'll try trusting that."
Elian rested his chin lightly against Juni's hair. "That's all I'm asking."
At the bus stop the next morning, Juni arrived with a quieter smile. The fear hadn't vanished. But it had been named. And sometimes, that was the difference between drowning and floating. They sat side by side, knees touching.
Not clinging. Not distant.
Just choosing each other—for now.