It wasn't their moment anymore.
It was visible.
Aira realized that when someone from her class casually said—
"You two are always together now."
It wasn't judgmental.
Just observational.
Still, it made her pause.
She wasn't embarrassed.
She just wasn't used to being seen like that.
Later that day, they were walking across campus when a few heads turned.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Reyhan noticed it too.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"With what?"
"With being noticed."
She hesitated.
"I don't want this to turn into something performative," she said.
"It won't," he replied.
"But it feels different when it's public."
He stopped walking.
Not blocking her.
Just slowing the pace.
"Do you want to step back?" he asked.
That question mattered more than she expected.
"No," she said immediately.
He nodded.
"Then don't."
The simplicity of him always did that—cut through the noise.
They reached the courtyard, where a group of students were sitting nearby.
Reyhan's hand brushed against hers.
For a second, she considered pulling away.
Just out of habit.
Instead, she laced her fingers with his.
Not dramatically.
Not to prove anything.
Just because she wanted to.
He glanced at her, a faint smile touching his lips.
"You don't look uncomfortable," he said.
"I'm not," she replied honestly.
And she wasn't.
There was something freeing about not hiding.
Not minimizing.
Not acting like what they had was fragile enough to be concealed.
She didn't owe anyone secrecy.
She wasn't ashamed.
That night, when she thought about the way their hands had stayed linked even when people looked, she realized something important—
Love didn't have to be loud.
But it didn't have to be hidden either.
She opened her notebook.
Her handwriting steady.
RULE #97: Don't hide what you're not ashamed of.
If it's real,
it doesn't need to be whispered.