Deniz and I walk through the VIP hallway, our hands joined, fingers intertwined in the easy, familiar way they've learned over these months.
The corridor stretches before us, quiet and empty, the pale walls reflecting the soft glow of the ceiling lights. Our footsteps echo softly against the polished floor, a soft rhythm that echoes the beat of my heart.
My eyes are down, fixed on the shifting pattern of the tiles, my thoughts still circling the same strange moment.
Moon said thank you.
I didn't expect that. I didn't think he had it in him—not the words themselves, but the willingness to say them. To admit that what someone did for him mattered. To lower his walls just enough to let gratitude slip through.
Deniz stops in front of the elevators. I don't realize until I bump into his shoulder, my body brushing against his warmth, the impact soft, familiar. I blink, startled, and look up.
