Maria.
"Noah, are you okay?" I asked suddenly, the tension in the room becoming too heavy for me to ignore. I stepped closer and lifted my hand, placing it gently against his forehead as if checking for a fever. "Did you hit your head? You seem… agitated."
The words left my mouth half-teasing, half-concerned, but my chest felt tight as I searched his face for answers.
He didn't lean into my touch, he didn't pull away either. For a moment, he just stood there.
"No, I am fine, Maria," he said quietly. "I just need some rest. I will take my leave."
He still wasn't looking at me.
Instead, he plastered on a smile, one so painfully obvious that it made my stomach twist. It didn't reach his eyes. It didn't soften his features. It sat there like a mask, thin and fragile.
I nodded slowly.
"Okay…" I whispered.
But the ache in my chest refused to ease.
It spread instead, slow and uncomfortable, as if something important was slipping through my fingers.
