As we walked back toward my room, I could feel the warmth of Lise's hand intertwined with mine, steady and comforting. Her fingers felt delicate yet secure, creating a sense of intimacy that made the world around us fade into the background.
The gentle pressure of her touch pulsed with a familiar rhythm, each step showcasing the connection we shared.
It was as if our hands had choreographed their own dance, ebbing and flowing with our movements, and the small interludes of silence became a language of their own, filled with unspoken promises.
Despite everything that had happened the harsh echoes of arguments, the chaotic whirlwind of Sapphire's unexpected appearance, and Zaya's ever-unstable energy this felt grounding, reminding me of what was real and solid amid all the noise.
