Salomi did not fall apart all at once.
Her body didn't betray her loudly.
It whispered first.
---
A dull headache that lingered longer than it should.
She pressed her fingers to her temple, smiled it off, and kept moving.
---
Another day—
A sudden warmth beneath her nose.
She paused, confused, touching it lightly.
Blood.
---
She blinked.
Wiped it away.
Looked around to make sure no one saw.
Then went back to work.
---
It's nothing, she told herself.
I'll get something from the pharmacy.
---
But she never did.
---
Days passed.
Then weeks.
---
Her hearing shifted sometimes.
Voices sounded far away—
Even when they were right beside her.
Like she was underwater, trying to stay afloat in conversations she couldn't fully catch.
---
Another time—
Her hand trembled while holding a plate.
Not visibly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
---
But she felt it.
---
She switched hands.
Kept moving.
---
Then came the cough.
---
Soft at first.
Barely there.
---
Until one evening—
She covered her mouth, expecting nothing—
And saw red.
---
She stared at it for a long moment.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Just… quiet acknowledgement.
---
Then she washed it off.
And continued.
---
Because stopping…
Was never something she had learned.
---
Out of all of them—
It was Ruby.
---
Not because she was the kindest.
Not because she was the softest.
---
But because…
She was the first to look.
---
It started small.
---
She noticed the food was always ready.
Clothes always clean.
The house always… functioning.
---
Things she had never questioned before.
---
Until one day—
She followed it.
---
Followed her.
---
And what she found—
Didn't sit right.
---
Work.
Not one place.
Two.
---
Long hours.
Standing.
Moving.
Smiling at strangers the same way she smiled at home.
---
Ruby stood there, hidden, watching—
Confusion twisting into something heavier.
---
She doesn't go to school?
---
The realization hit slowly.
---
While they went to classes…
Complained…
Lived like teenagers—
---
She was working.
---
To survive.
---
To provide.
---
For them.
---
And no one had ever said anything.
---
No one had ever asked.
---
That night—
Ruby didn't say a word.
---
But something shifted.
---
It began with little things.
---
A plate washed before Salomi could reach it.
---
A chore done quietly.
---
A task taken over—
Without explanation.
---
Salomi noticed.
Of course she did.
---
And she smiled.
---
That same soft, warm smile.
---
But now—
Ruby noticed something else.
---
The tiredness behind it.
---
The way her eyes didn't fully light up anymore.
---
The way her body felt…
Thinner.
Lighter.
Fragile.
---
It unsettled her.
---
Because for the first time—
She wasn't looking at Salomi as someone who just existed.
---
She was seeing her.
---
Sleeping in Salomi's arms became routine.
---
Unspoken.
Unquestioned.
---
Ruby didn't ask anymore.
She just came.
---
And Salomi always made space.
---
Her arms wrapped around her naturally—
Like it was something she had always done.
Something she had been waiting to do again.
---
Ruby would rest her head against her chest.
Listen to her heartbeat.
Steady.
Comforting.
---
Safe.
---
But now—
She started noticing.
---
The pauses.
---
The slight irregularities.
---
The way her breathing wasn't always smooth.
---
One night—
She looked up.
Really looked.
---
"You're… okay, right?" she asked.
---
The question came out softer than she intended.
Almost… vulnerable.
---
For a second—
Just a second—
Something flickered in Salomi's eyes.
---
Then—
She smiled.
---
Not just any smile.
---
The brightest one.
---
The kind that could make everything feel okay.
---
And it did something to Ruby's chest—
Made her heart skip.
Stutter.
---
She quickly buried her face into Salomi's chest.
---
"Forget I said anything," she muttered.
---
A gentle hand found her hair.
Soft fingers running through it.
---
"I'm just a little tired," Salomi said quietly.
"But I'm okay."
A pause.
Then softer—
"Thank you for asking."
---
Ruby didn't respond.
---
But she smiled.
---
Without realizing it.
---
Something had woken up inside her.
---
Not guilt.
Not yet.
---
Something softer.
Something unfamiliar.
---
Care.
---
Protectiveness.
---
And the strange, quiet need—
To stay.
---
Even though she was older.
Even though she had spent years pushing her away.
---
Now—
She found herself holding onto her instead.
---
---