Rose invited me over without asking.
Just like she used to when we were kids.
"My parents are out for the weekend," she said after class, brushing her hair behind her ear. "You can stay the night."
It wasn't unusual. We'd had dozens of sleepovers growing up pillow forts, scary movies, whispered secrets under the covers. But this time felt different.
This time, I could still feel the ghost of her pinky against mine.
Her room hadn't changed much over the years. Pale colors. Soft lighting. Books neatly stacked beside her bed. It still smelled like vanilla and tea leaves.
She handed me a towel and one of her oversized hoodies. "You can change in the bathroom."
When I came out, she was already curled up on the bed, scrolling through her phone, wearing a hoodie identical to mine. Like a matching set.
I sat beside her, pretending I didn't notice how close our legs were.
"Do you remember," she said suddenly, "that night we slept on the roof?"
I blinked. "Of your house?"
"Yeah. We snuck up there when we were nine. We brought pillows and a box of Pocky. Said we were going to stay up until sunrise."
"You fell asleep before midnight."
She smiled. "But you stayed awake."
"Of course I did."
"Why?"
I looked at her, but she wasn't looking at me. Her eyes were on the ceiling, soft and unreadable.
"I think I just wanted to watch over you," I said, before I could stop myself.
She turned her head slowly. Our eyes met.
There was something electric in the silence. Something fragile.
"Kellie," she whispered. "That day… in the rain…"
"Yeah?"
"I was going to kiss you."
My breath caught.
"I wanted to," she added. "But I was scared. Of what would happen if I did."
I swallowed hard. My voice felt like it might crack. "What do you think would've happened?"
"I don't know," she said, quieter now. "Maybe everything would change. Maybe we'd never go back to the way it was."
I looked at her, heart pounding. "Do you want to go back?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she shifted slightly, reaching out her hand finding mine under the blanket, our fingers weaving together without a word.
And in that moment, the silence wasn't empty.
It was full. Full of everything we hadn't said.
Full of everything we were finally starting to understand.
They didn't kiss that night.
But they didn't need to.
Because Rose fell asleep with her head on my shoulder.
And I stayed awake all night again not out of fear.
But because I didn't want to miss a second of her breathing beside me.