Leah
Leah didn't think about Alyssa Weber the next morning.
At least, that was what she told herself.
She sat in the lecture hall with her notebook open, pen resting against the page, eyes on the professor as words drifted past her without landing. She wrote things down automatically, her handwriting neat and empty of meaning.
Warm kitchen light.
A hand brushing her hair back.
A voice saying her name like it mattered.
She pressed her pen harder than necessary, forcing her attention back to the present.
It wasn't like she'd never met a parent before. This wasn't new. This wasn't significant.
And yet.
Jonas texted her halfway through the lecture.
Jonas: Mom says hi.
Jonas: She wants to know if you liked the soup.
Leah stared at the screen longer than she needed to.
Leah: Yeah. Tell her it was really good.
Tell her. Not your mom.
She caught herself smiling and immediately shut it down.
When they met up later that afternoon, Jonas was the same as always—easy, familiar, distant in a way that didn't demand much from her. He kissed her cheek, talked about an assignment, walked beside her like it was habit.
Leah realized, suddenly and sharply, that Jonas hadn't asked her how her day was.
She wondered when she had started noticing that.
That evening, she found herself back at his house.
She told herself it was coincidence. Timing. Convenience.
Alyssa was in the living room this time, curled into one corner of the couch with a book, glasses perched low on her nose. She looked up when Leah entered, surprise flickering into something softer.
"Oh," she said. "Hi, Leah."
The way she said her name—gentle, unhurried—made Leah's chest tighten.
"Hi," Leah replied, quieter than she meant to.
They talked—about nothing and everything. Alyssa listened the way people rarely did anymore—without waiting for her turn to speak.
At some point, Jonas excused himself to take a call.
The room felt suddenly too quiet.
Alyssa shifted, folding her hands together. "You seem tired," she said. "Are you pushing yourself too hard?"
Leah shrugged. "I guess I don't really know how not to."
Alyssa smiled, but there was something thoughtful behind it. "That's something you should learn."
The words stayed with Leah long after she left.
She didn't know why.
Alyssa
After Leah left, Alyssa sat very still.
She told herself she was tired. That she was overthinking. That she was imagining things because life had been quiet lately, predictable in a way that made her mind wander.
Leah was Jonas's girlfriend.
Young. Thoughtful. Kind.
Nothing more.
And yet Alyssa found herself replaying the way Leah's eyes lit up when she spoke, the way she listened as if Alyssa's words held weight.
That was dangerous territory. Not desire—no, not that.
Attention.
Alyssa closed her book without realizing she hadn't turned a page in ten minutes.
She exhaled slowly.
This is nothing, she told herself.
But the thought felt defensive.