(Keifer's POV)
I walked toward her.
Slow.
Steady.
Placed the bag down beside the bench.
Then sat next to her.
Close.
Careful.
I didn't say anything at first.
Just gently pulled her closer.
Her head rested on my shoulder.
Light.
Too light.
"Jay… baby," I said quietly,
"what happened to you?"
No response.
Just—
her tears.
Soaking into my shirt.
Warm.
Continuous.
My jaw tightened slightly.
"Talk to me, baby."
Still nothing.
I moved my hand up.
Gently cupped her cheeks.
Turned her face toward me.
Slow.
Careful.
Her eyes—
I couldn't look at them.
Not like that.
I wiped her tears with my thumb.
Once.
Then again.
"Did they say something?" I asked,
glancing toward the group.
My tone—
calm.
But not really.
She followed my gaze.
Then—
she smiled.
A small one.
Soft.
But it didn't reach her eyes.
"No," she said.
Cute.
Like she was trying to make it sound normal.
But her voice—
it hurt.
I didn't believe it.
Not for a second.
She looked back at me.
Then slightly toward them again.
"Look at that boy," she said softly,
"his name is Ethan."
My eyes shifted.
Locked on him instantly.
And something in me—
stilled.
Completely.
I understood.
Without her saying anything.
I understood.
The way she was holding herself—
too quiet.
Too controlled.
The kind of pain—
you don't say out loud.
The kind—
that stays inside.
Burns.
Slow.
Heavy.
The kind that feels like hell—
when you lose something that was yours.
I know that feeling.
Too well.
I didn't wait.
I pulled her into me.
Immediately.
Wrapped my arms around her.
Tight.
And she didn't resist.
Not even a second.
She buried her face into my chest.
Deep.
Like—
if she didn't—
I would disappear.
My hand moved to the back of her head.
Holding her there.
Gently.
Carefully.
My other arm wrapped around her waist.
Securing her closer.
Not letting her slip away.
Not this time.
Not again.
And for that moment—
I didn't say anything.
Just held her.
Like that was the only thing she needed.
And maybe—
it was.
I understood.
Without her saying anything.
I understood.
The way she was holding herself—
too quiet.
Too controlled.
The kind of pain—
you don't say out loud.
The kind—
that stays inside.
Burns.
Slow.
Heavy.
The kind that feels like hell—
when you lose something that was yours.
I know that feeling.
Too well.
I didn't wait.
I pulled her into me.
Immediately.
Wrapped my arms around her.
Tight.
And she didn't resist.
Not even a second.
She buried her face into my chest.
Deep.
Like—
if she didn't—
I would disappear.
My hand moved to the back of her head.
Holding her there.
Gently.
Carefully.
My other arm wrapped around her waist.
Securing her closer.
Not letting her slip away.
Not this time.
Not again.
And for that moment—
I didn't say anything.
Just held her.
Like that was the only thing she needed.
And maybe—
it was.
She had already told me.
Not everything.
But enough.
And now—
she was quiet.
Not breaking.
Just… calm.
Breathing steady.
Still close to me.
I didn't say anything for a moment.
Just adjusted my hold slightly.
Less tight.
But still there.
"You okay?" I asked softly.
She nodded against my chest.
"Yeah."
A small pause.
"…I'm okay."
Her voice was better now.
Not shaking.
I moved my hand from her head—
brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.
"You don't have to force it," I said.
"I'm not," she replied quietly.
Then—
a small exhale.
"…it just surprised me."
I nodded once.
Didn't push.
Didn't ask more.
My thumb moved lightly across her cheek—
wiping the last bit of tear.
"You're still getting food," I said.
She let out a small laugh.
"Of course."
"Priorities."
"Obviously."
I picked up the bag.
Stood up first—
then held my hand out to her again.
She looked at it.
This time—
no comment.
Just placed her hand in mine.
I helped her up.
Careful.
Slow.
We started walking toward the car.
Not fast.
Not rushing.
Just steady.
I stayed close.
Closer than usual.
Not because she needed help walking.
But—
just in case.
She glanced at me once.
"…I'm fine, you know."
"I know."
"Then why are you walking like I'll fall?"
"Because you might."
She rolled her eyes slightly.
"…overprotective."
"Always."
She didn't argue after that.
Just walked beside me.
Quiet.
Calm.
And this time—
she wasn't alone with it.
We got into the car.
I started the engine.
The soft hum filled the silence.
Not heavy anymore.
Just… quiet.
I glanced at her.
She was looking outside.
Normal.
Better.
Good.
I started driving.
Slow.
Careful.
A minute passed.
Then—
"Keif."
"Hm?"
She turned slightly toward me.
"…do you think I look like a joker?"
I blinked.
"…what?"
"A joker," she repeated, serious face.
"Like those people who laugh at everything."
I looked at her properly now.
"…no."
She frowned.
"Think again."
"I did."
She crossed her arms slightly.
"I think I do."
"Why?"
"Because I just cried," she said, "and now I'm asking you this."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
"That doesn't make you a joker," I said calmly.
"It makes you confusing."
"Wow."
"That was polite."
"Very."
She looked out again.
Then back at me.
"…you didn't even deny it properly."
"I did."
"No effort."
"You want effort?"
"Yes."
I slowed the car slightly at a turn.
Then looked at her.
"Fine."
A small pause.
"You don't look like a joker."
She waited.
"And?"
I leaned a little closer—
just enough.
"You look like someone who makes people forget everything else."
Silence.
She blinked.
Once.
"…that was not part of the question."
"I know."
She tried not to smile.
Failed.
"…smooth."
"Always."
She shook her head slightly.
"Shameless."
"Only with you."
She looked away again—
but this time—
there was a smile.
Small.
Real.
And that—
was enough.