"You've become quite close with Amaya these past days," Demi remarked, her gaze locked on Zeya, searching for any hint of deeper emotions behind her casual demeanour. She held a glass of juice, but her attention was solely on Zeya's expression.
"Yeah, we've become," Zeya replied, her voice light and carefree, a smile dancing on her lips as she continued typing on her phone, seemingly unfazed. Demi felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her fingers tightening around the glass, the cool surface contrasting with the heat of her unease. "Zeya–" she hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper.
