It was quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that hurts.
The kind that holds you.
The kind you earn.
Viera sat on a park bench, legs tucked beneath her, sketchbook open on her lap. She wasn't drawing anything in particular. Just letting the pen wander. Letting her hands remember what stillness felt like.
Kade was lying in the grass nearby, hoodie bunched behind his head, eyes closed. His fingers were curled around a paperback, forgotten.
They didn't talk much that afternoon.
They didn't need to.
Now and then she'd glance up from the page. Watch the wind push his hair just slightly out of place. Watch the corners of his mouth twitch when he caught her staring.
The world hadn't stopped being sharp. There were still moments of noise. Of fear. Of pressure to be bigger, louder, brighter.
But they had learned how to breathe inside it. Together.
And sometimes that was enough.
They didn't know what came next.
But they knew they'd walk into it side by side.
And maybe just maybe that was all love ever really needed to be.