After a few days, the warmth didn't fade.
It settled.
The kind that didn't announce itself loudly, but stayed—like sunlight lingering on a desk long after the window was closed.
XinYue started noticing the small things.
Li Hanyan waiting for her before class instead of already sitting down. Zhao Xia stealing her water bottle and running off like a menace. Someone new greeting XinYue in the hallway, like she'd always belonged there.
It was strange.
Not uncomfortable.
Just new.
During lunch, Zhao Xia plopped down across from XinYue, grinning like she knew something everyone else didn't.
"You've been popular lately," she said.
XinYue frowned. "What?"
"That guy from Class 10," Zhao Xia continued. "And the one near the library yesterday. And the freshman who almost tripped over himself saying hi."
XinYue groaned. "You're exaggerating."
"I never exaggerate," Zhao Xia said proudly. "I dramatize."
Li Hanyan sat beside XinYue, opening his lunch quietly.
He didn't look up.
But his grip on his chopsticks tightened—just a little.
XinYue noticed.
She always did.
Later that afternoon, a boy stopped her near the staircase.
"I—uh—XinYue, right?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you wanted to—"
"She doesn't."
The voice was calm.
Too calm.
Li Hanyan stood a step behind XinYue, expression unreadable.
The boy blinked. "Oh. I didn't—"
"She already said no," Li Hanyan added.
XinYue hadn't.
But she didn't correct him.
The boy muttered an apology and left.
Zhao Xia appeared immediately, eyes lighting up.
"Oh? So now you speak?"
Li Hanyan ignored her.
XinYue turned toward him. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know," he said.
Then, quieter, "I wanted to."
She didn't know what to say to that.
So she smiled instead.
After school, the three of them walked together—Zhao Xia talking nonstop, XinYue laughing, Li Hanyan listening with that familiar, quiet attention.
At one point, Zhao Xia suddenly stopped.
"I forgot something," she said. "You two go ahead."
XinYue narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."
Zhao Xia waved her off. "I always am."
She disappeared down another path.
Silence fell—not awkward. Just… aware.
They walked side by side.
"Does it bother you?" XinYue asked suddenly.
"What?" Li Hanyan replied.
"When people… approach me."
He didn't answer right away.
"No," he said eventually. "It just reminds me that you don't belong to anyone."
She glanced at him. "That's a good thing."
"I know," he said. Then added, almost to himself, "Doesn't mean it's easy."
XinYue slowed her steps.
He slowed too.
That night, Zhao Xia messaged her:
> Zhao Xia: He's down bad.
XinYue: Zhao Xia—
Zhao Xia: I'm just saying. Slowly. Very slowly. But definitely.
XinYue put her phone down, heart doing something unfamiliar.
Not rushing.
Not panicking.
Just… waiting.
And somewhere across town, Li Hanyan lay awake longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, realizing something he hadn't planned for—
Friendship was supposed to make things easier.
So why did it feel like he was standing closer to the edge of something he couldn't name?
--