The next morning felt… different.
Not better.
Not okay.
But… lighter.
I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.
Same tired eyes.
Same emptiness.
But something had changed.
For the first time in weeks…
I didn't feel like I was completely drowning.
When I reached school—
He was already there.
Of course he was.
Same seat. Same quiet presence.
"You're early," I said, placing my bag down.
"So are you," he replied calmly.
I almost said I couldn't sleep…
but stopped myself.
Instead, I just nodded.
A small silence settled between us.
But it wasn't uncomfortable anymore.
He slid something across the desk toward me.
I frowned. "What's this?"
"Just open it."
Inside was a small chocolate bar.
My fingers froze.
"I don't eat sweets," I said automatically.
"You used to," he replied.
I looked up, confused. "How do you know that?"
"You mentioned it once… before," he said simply.
"I remember things."
My chest tightened.
Because no one had been paying attention to me like that.
Not anymore.
"It won't fix anything," I said quietly.
"I know," he replied.
"It's not supposed to."
I stared at the chocolate for a long moment.
Then slowly… I opened it.
Took a small bite.
It tasted the same.
Sweet.
Familiar.
Painful.
For a second, memories of my mom flooded back—
her buying me chocolates, smiling, telling me not to eat too many.
My eyes stung.
But this time…
I didn't cry.
Instead—
A small, fragile smile slipped through.
"You're smiling," he said softly.
I immediately looked away. "I'm not."
"You are."
I hated that he noticed.
And yet…
I didn't hate it.
"It's stupid," I muttered.
"No," he said quietly.
"It's not."
For a moment, I forgot everything.
The pain.
The emptiness.
The loss.
And in that tiny moment…
I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Peace.
Not because my pain was gone—
But because someone was standing beside me… while I carried it.
I looked at him again.
And this time… I didn't look away quickly.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
I was starting to heal.