It didn't happen all at once.
That's how changes usually begin—quietly, almost politely.
The next morning, Ruhan took the seat beside me again.
Same bench. Same distance.
But the room felt different.
People noticed.
Not openly. Not boldly. Just long enough for it to register.
A pause in conversation.A glance held too long.A whisper that didn't quite finish forming.
"You should sit somewhere else," someone muttered behind us.
Ruhan didn't react.
I didn't either.
The teacher entered, placed her books down, and started the lesson without comment. But her eyes flicked toward us once — not warning, not approving.
Measuring.
During group work, no one asked Ruhan to join them.
He didn't ask either.
I slid my notebook closer to his.
"Question three," I whispered. "You're faster at it."
He looked at me, surprised. Then nodded.
We worked in silence.
Not the lonely kind.
The kind that knows what it's doing.
At break, a girl from my class pulled me aside.
"You know," she said carefully, "people will talk about you now too."
I met her eyes. "They already do."
She hesitated. "Just… be careful."
I smiled—not unkindly.
"Careful of what?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
Because some warnings don't come with explanations.
When I returned, Ruhan was standing near the window, watching the ground outside. No snow left. Just cold earth and footprints fading into nothing.
"They say you shouldn't sit with me," he said quietly, without turning around.
I stood beside him.
"Do you want me to move?" I asked.
He shook his head immediately.
"No," he said. Then paused. "But I don't want you staying because you feel like you have to."
I looked at him.
"I'm here because I chose to be," I said. "That's the only reason that matters."
He exhaled—slowly, carefully.
That day, nothing dramatic happened.
No confrontation. No apology.
Just the quiet understanding that being seen beside someone is also a choice—and sometimes, it costs something.
But as the day ended and we walked out together, I knew this:
The world had started watching us.
And for once, neither of us stepped back.
