Dae's
The moment Dove sighs, I think she's going to say something-push me to talk, maybe-but instead, she just moves closer. Before I can process it, her arm slips around mine, her fingers curling into my sleeve like it's the most natural thing in the world. Then she rests her head on my shoulder, and for a second, my whole body goes still.
I don't know why it catches me off guard. Maybe because it's been a long time since someone offered comfort like this, without hesitation, without me having to ask for it. Maybe because I'm not used to letting myself take it.
Her voice is quiet when she finally speaks, but it cuts through the noise in my head. "Your feelings matter, Dae. And it's okay."
Something in my chest tightens, then loosens, like a knot unravelling too slowly. I exhale, not sure what to say. I'm not sure if I even know how to accept what she's telling me. People say things like that all the time, but they don't always mean it. They don't always stay.
But Dove does.
"Yeah," I murmur because I feel like I have to say something, even if I don't fully believe it yet. "Maybe."
She squeezes my arm, warm and steady. "Not maybe. Definitely."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. There's something about the way she says it-so sure, so unwavering-that makes me think maybe she's right. Maybe I don't have to keep everything buried. Maybe it's okay to let someone be here.
I huff out a quiet chuckle, tilting my head just enough that my cheek brushes against her hair. "You always this stubborn?"
I don't have to see her face to know she's smiling. I can hear it in her voice when she says, "You have no idea."
And for the first time since yesterday, since everything with Minho and the fight and all the things I still don't know how to put into words, I feel a little lighter.
Dove doesn't move. She just stays there, her arm wrapped around mine, her head resting against my shoulder like it's the easiest thing in the world. Like she doesn't care if someone sees us or what they might think.
I should say something. Maybe make a joke, shift away, and do anything to keep myself from sinking into this feeling too much. But I don't. I just sit there, listening to the quiet hum of the school around us, the distant sound of laughter and sneakers scuffing against the pavement.
And then she sighs, just the tiniest bit, like she's letting herself settle in, and I feel it more than I hear it.
It does something to me.
Not in a big, obvious way, but in a quiet, unshakable way. Like a thread pulling tight in my chest, like a realization I don't fully understand yet.
I turn my head slightly, catching a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye. Her gaze is somewhere in the distance, unfocused, and thoughtful. Her grip on my sleeve hasn't loosened.
I swallow, forcing my voice to stay even. "You're really not gonna ask, huh?"
She tilts her head slightly, just enough that her temple brushes against my shoulder. "Ask what?"
"You know what."
She's quiet for a second. Then, "I figured you'd tell me if you wanted to."
That throws me more than it should.
Most people don't wait. They push, they dig, and they try to pry things out of me, even when I'm not ready. But Dove just... lets me be. Like she's not here to fix me, not here to force an answer out of me-just here.
I don't know what to do with that.
My fingers twitch against my knee. "Maybe I do," I say before I can stop myself.
Dove doesn't react, at least not in a way that pressures me. She just makes a quiet sound of acknowledgement, like she's giving me space to keep going if I want to.
So I do.
"Minho was my best friend ... but I just felt like we've never really been friend friends," I admit, my voice lower now, like saying it out loud, makes it real in a way I haven't wanted to deal with. "Not really. It's more like two people orbiting around the same things, waiting for one of us to snap."
Dove stays quiet, listening.
I exhale sharply through my nose, shaking my head. "And yesterday, I snapped first."
She shifts slightly, just enough that I can feel the way her grip on my sleeve tightens. "You weren't the only one."
I let out a quiet laugh, but there's no humour in it. "Yeah. Guess we both finally had enough."
Dove doesn't let go of me, doesn't pull away. For some reason, that makes it easier to admit the next part.
"It wasn't just about Kitty." My voice is quieter now, like I'm finally saying something I've been pushing down for too long. "I mean, yeah, that's what set it off. But it's been building for a while."
Dove shifts, but she still doesn't push.
I let out a slow breath. "It's complicated."
She hums thoughtfully. "Aren't most things?"
That makes me smile-small, barely there, but real.
"Yeah," I murmur, leaning just the slightest bit into her warmth. "Guess they are."
For a moment, we just sit there. Dove doesn't rush me, doesn't try to fill the silence with empty words. She just stays, her arm still looped around mine, her head still resting against my shoulder like she's always meant to be there.
I don't know why that gets to me more than anything else. Maybe because I'm not used to this-someone giving me space without making me feel like I have to earn it first.
I swallow, staring down at my hand where it rests on my knee. Then, before I can overthink it, I shift slightly and turn my palm upward, hesitating for just a second before reaching for hers.
"Thanks, Dove," I murmur, my voice quieter than I meant for it to be.
I half expect her not to react. Or worse, to hesitate.
But she doesn't.
As soon as my fingers brush against hers, she laces them together like it's the easiest thing in the world, like she never even considered pulling away. Then she squeezes-firm, steady, like she's been waiting for me to reach out this whole time.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
It's not much. Just a hand in mine. Just warmth between fingers.
But somehow, it feels like everything.
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ð I just.... it's so soft! This chapter ð
I kinda like their dynamic too.