Comfort crept in quietly.
It didn't announce itself.
Didn't demand space.
It just… settled.
Aira noticed it when Reyhan started showing up without asking.
Not possessive.
Not clingy.
Just present.
He walked her to class without making it obvious.
Sat near her without needing permission.
Shared silence without filling it.
And that scared her more than tension ever did.
Because tension was easy to blame.
Comfort meant choice.
They were sitting on the steps near the old science block after school, backpacks on the ground, the campus unusually calm.
Reyhan leaned back, arms folded behind his head.
"You look uncomfortable," he said.
Aira blinked. "I do not."
"You do," he replied easily.
"Like someone who's too relaxed and doesn't trust it."
She huffed. "You're projecting."
"Maybe," he said.
"But you haven't tried to leave yet."
That made her pause.
She hadn't.
"I'm not running," she said quietly.
"I know," Reyhan replied.
"That's why you're thinking too much."
Aira looked at him then.
"Does it ever scare you?" she asked.
"How easy this feels?"
Reyhan didn't joke this time.
"Yes," he said.
"Because easy makes you forget to prepare for things going wrong."
That honesty sat between them.
"I don't want us to fall into something without noticing," Aira said.
"I don't want comfort to turn into dependency."
Reyhan nodded slowly.
"And I don't want distance to turn into protection."
They sat there, thinking.
Then Reyhan said softly,
"We don't have to rush forward or pull back."
Aira glanced at him. "Then what do we do?"
He smiled faintly.
"We stay aware."
That sounded simple.
It wasn't.
But it felt right.
Aira stood up first.
"I should go."
Reyhan stood too.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he said quietly,
"I like this version of us."
"So do I," Aira replied.
"Which is exactly why I don't want to sleepwalk through it."
Reyhan nodded.
They walked toward the gate together.
Still no touching.
Still no confessions.
But comfort no longer felt like a trap.
It felt like something they were choosing—carefully.
RULE #45: Don't let comfort feel dangerous.
Because when something feels safe,
it's worth staying awake for.