They didn't plan to celebrate. That was the point. There was no group text. No reservation. No loud declarations of freedom.
Instead, they ended up at the small park near Juni's place, the one with uneven grass and a bench that leaned slightly to the left. Juni dropped his bag beside it and sat, exhaling deeply.
"…I don't know what to do with myself now," he said.
Elian smiled. "That's a good problem."
They lay back on the grass, staring up at the sky. Clouds drifted lazily overhead, unbothered by deadlines or schedules. Juni stretched his arms above his head.
"…I keep waiting for someone to tell me I should be studying."
Elian laughed softly. "Same."
They lay there, saying nothing. Letting the world continue without them for a while. Later, they walked to a nearby stall and bought fried snacks wrapped in paper. The food was too greasy, the sauce too sweet.
Perfect.
Juni laughed when Elian wiped his hands on a napkin that promptly disintegrated.
"You're hopeless," Juni said again, fond.
Elian grinned. "You keep choosing me."
Juni didn't argue.
As dusk settled in, they returned to the bench. Streetlights flickered on, casting warm halos. Juni leaned his head against Elian's shoulder without thinking. Elian stayed still—then tilted his head slightly in response.
Neither spoke. They didn't need to.
"…I'm glad we did this together," Juni said eventually.
Elian nodded. "Me too."
A pause.
"…I don't think I would've made it through this year without you," Juni added, voice quiet.
Elian swallowed. "You did the hard parts," he said.
Juni smiled faintly. "Yeah," he said. "But you stayed."
They walked home slowly, hands brushing occasionally.
Not holding. Not pulling away. Just there.
The year wasn't over yet. There were still results to come, decisions to make, futures to negotiate.
But tonight—They weren't defined by any of that. They were two boys who had survived something difficult.
Together.
And that, for now, was more than enough.