Aira didn't sleep that night.
Not because of fear.
Not because of noise.
Because once you noticed something…
your mind refused to let it go.
The way Reyhan looked at her.
The way he waited.
The way he never asked for more—but somehow made space feel full.
You're already in it.
The words replayed like a whisper that refused to fade.
She sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, phone face-down beside her.
Calling it love felt too easy.
Love was loud in movies.
Messy.
Explosive.
This wasn't that.
This was quiet.
Steady.
Terrifyingly intentional.
---
The next day, school felt… aware.
Not buzzing.
Not dramatic.
Aware.
Aira noticed Reyhan noticed her noticing him.
They didn't sit closer.
Didn't pull away.
They existed in that charged in-between that made every small movement feel deliberate.
During lunch, Sia stared at them for a full ten seconds.
Then said, "So. Are we not calling this anything on purpose or—"
"No," Aira said immediately.
Reyhan raised an eyebrow.
Sia blinked. "Wow. Immediate."
Aira exhaled. "It's not denial. It's… respect."
"For what?" Sia asked.
"For the fact that naming something changes it," Reyhan answered calmly.
Aira looked at him.
He met her eyes.
That was new.
Later, after classes ended, they walked toward the gate together.
Halfway there, Reyhan stopped.
"Aira."
She turned.
"I don't want you to feel like I'm waiting for something," he said quietly.
"I don't want this to feel like pressure."
Her chest tightened.
"And I don't want to name something just because silence feels heavy," she replied.
They stood there.
Close enough to feel each other's presence.
Far enough to still choose.
"I care about you," Reyhan said.
Not rushed.
Not dramatic.
Clear.
Aira didn't freeze.
Didn't panic.
She nodded slowly.
"I know."
He didn't say love.
Neither did she.
Because this wasn't about the word.
It was about intention.
"I'm not ready to call this love," Aira said honestly.
"But I don't want to walk away from it either."
Reyhan smiled softly.
"Good. Because I don't want to rush something that already feels real."
They walked again.
At the gate, they stopped like always.
This time, Reyhan hesitated.
Then did something small.
He reached out—not for her hand.
For her sleeve.
Light.
Careful.
Asking.
Aira looked at his hand.
Then at his face.
Then she let her fingers curl around his wrist.
Not holding.
Not claiming.
Acknowledging.
For just a second.
It felt like crossing an invisible line.
Not into love.
Into certainty.
They let go at the same time.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Reyhan said.
Aira smiled faintly.
"Yeah. Tomorrow."
She walked away without looking back.
Not because she was unsure.
Because for once…
she wasn't afraid of what staying meant.
RULE #50: Don't call it love yet.
Because some feelings deserve patience—
not labels.