# Chapter 3: Between Two Worlds
The following day dragged on like all the others.
Yunar barely paid attention in class. His mind was split — half trapped in the dream restaurant, in the guilt behind the woman's eyes, in the little girl's yellow dress. The other half was somewhere else. Fixed on a possibility he hardly dared to consider.
Alya.
Eren had been right. He needed to try. He needed something real. Something that wouldn't disappear when a mysterious voice gave the order.
When the last bell rang, Yunar didn't go straight home.
---
The park near the school was quiet at that hour. A few children played on the playground under the watchful eyes of their parents. Couples walked hand in hand. Elderly men and women fed pigeons on the benches.
Yunar was sitting on one of those benches, sweaty hands gripping his phone.
He had sent the message fifteen minutes ago.
*"Can we talk? I'm at the park."*
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
*"On my way."*
His heart lurched.
The tears started before he even noticed. He wiped them away quickly, breathing deep. Control it. Just this once, please, control it.
It didn't work. It never worked.
"Yunar?"
He looked up.
Alya was standing a few metres away, backpack hanging from one shoulder. Brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, school uniform slightly rumpled. She had that kind of simple beauty that required no effort — natural, comforting.
"Hi." His voice came out weaker than he intended.
She walked over and sat beside him on the bench, leaving a respectful distance between them. Her eyes landed on the tears immediately, but she said nothing. She never did. That was one of the things Yunar appreciated most about her.
"You wanted to talk?"
Yunar nodded, wiping his face one more time. His hands were trembling faintly. *Just say it. Just say it.*
"I... I wanted to—" The words tangled in his throat. He tried again. "I... I..."
"I accept."
Yunar blinked, processing. "What?"
Alya smiled, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "I accept. Going out with you. That's what you were going to ask, wasn't it?"
The world stopped.
For a moment, Yunar forgot how to breathe. Forgot the tears. Forgot everything except that gentle smile and the words still echoing in his mind.
*I accept.*
And then the tears came.
Not the steady stream he was used to. A flood. They poured down his face uncontrollably, soaking his cheeks, dripping onto his uniform, onto the bench, onto the ground.
"Really?" He could barely speak between the sobs.
"Really." Alya laughed softly, though a note of concern crept into her voice. She glanced around. A few people were starting to stare. "You don't... you don't have to cry that much."
"I can't stop." Yunar tried to wipe the tears away, but it was useless. They kept coming, warm and relentless.
A couple walked past them, and Yunar caught the murmured comment: "What a dramatic man."
Alya went slightly pink, her cheeks even more flushed. But she didn't get up. She didn't leave. Instead, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a handkerchief, holding it out to him.
"Here."
Yunar took it and pressed it against his face, trying to pull himself together. "Sorry. I... this always happens."
"I know." Her voice was gentle. "It's okay."
They stayed like that for a few more minutes. Yunar eventually managed to bring the sobs under control, though the tears continued to fall slowly. Alya said nothing, just sat beside him, watching the children on the playground.
It was... comfortable.
"Thank you," Yunar said finally.
"For what?"
"For accepting someone like me."
Alya turned to look at him, her expression serious. "You think I accepted because I feel sorry for you?"
Yunar hesitated. "I... don't know."
"Then let me be clear." She took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. "I accepted because I like you. Not in spite of who you are. Because of who you are."
The words landed somewhere deep inside him.
Yunar looked down at her hand holding his. Warm. Real. Solid.
*Real.*
"I like you too," he murmured.
Alya smiled again, and this time there was no embarrassment in it. Only something genuine.
---
Yunar floated the entire way home.
The moment he locked his bedroom door, he grabbed his phone and called Eren.
"Man, I'm so happy!" The words came out in a rush.
From the other end of the line, Eren let out a victory shout. "I KNEW IT! I knew she'd say yes! Tell me everything. Every single detail!"
Yunar told him. The park, the nerves, how she had accepted before he even finished asking. Eren interrupted several times with enthusiastic commentary and jokes about Yunar finally "switching from sad mode to boyfriend mode."
"Just one thing," Eren said eventually, his voice turning more serious. "Try to keep the waterworks under control when you two go out, alright? Otherwise people are going to think she's torturing you."
Yunar laughed. A real laugh, light and easy, the kind he hadn't felt in a long time. "I'll try."
"Good enough. Now go rest, man. You deserve it."
"Thanks, Eren."
"Always."
The call ended, and Yunar let his phone fall onto the bed beside him. He lay back and stared at the ceiling with a small smile on his lips.
Alya had said yes.
For the first time in weeks — months, maybe — he felt something beyond confusion and emptiness.
He felt hope.
---
Sleep came easily that night.
And with it, the dream.
---
Yunar was in a living room.
It wasn't large, but it was warm. A grey fabric sofa dominated the centre, facing a flat-screen TV showing some cooking programme at low volume. There were bookshelves lined with books and framed photographs. A soft rug beneath his bare feet.
He was sitting on the sofa.
The woman stood behind him, holding the little girl's small arms. She was wearing simple pyjamas — sweatpants and an oversized top. Her white hair fell loose over her shoulders.
"My sweet girl," the woman said softly, "can you go to your room?"
The little girl pouted. "But I haven't said hello to Daddy yet."
"That's alright. You can do it later."
The child looked at Yunar, hesitant. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. So he just gave a small wave.
She smiled — small, uncertain — and ran down the hallway, disappearing behind a door.
The silence that followed was heavy.
The woman walked around the sofa and stood in front of the TV with her back to Yunar. Her shoulders were tense.
"Why?" Her voice was low, controlled. "Why do you always do this?"
Yunar didn't answer. He didn't know how.
She turned to face him. There were tears in her eyes. "It was your daughter's birthday. And you just kept abandoning us. No explanation. Nothing."
Every word was a blade.
"And don't worry," she continued, her voice trembling. "I paid the bill at the restaurant."
She stepped closer and held his face in both hands. Her fingers were cold and trembling slightly.
"I... I can't take this anymore." The tears finally fell, sliding down her cheeks. "You need to stop."
And then she broke.
She pressed her head against his chest, sobs shaking her entire body. Yunar felt the warmth of her tears soaking through his shirt. Felt the heat of her. The soft scent of lavender shampoo.
His hand moved on its own, running through her white hair in a gesture that felt rehearsed over years.
They stayed like that for a time impossible to measure.
Eventually, she pulled away. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to compose herself.
"I'm... going to bed."
She leaned in.
And kissed him.
It was different from the kiss in the restaurant. This one was longer. More desperate. As though she were trying to hold on to something slipping through her fingers.
When she pulled away, Yunar was frozen. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
She took a step back, avoiding his gaze. "Good night."
And she disappeared down the hallway.
Yunar stayed there, sitting on the sofa, staring at the empty space where she had been.
*"See reality."*
The voice exploded in his mind.
Louder. Angrier. More real than ever.
The world cracked. The room fell apart.
---
Yunar woke up gasping.
His hand flew to his lips. He could still feel the kiss. Could still feel her tears soaking through his shirt. Could still feel the desperation in her voice.
*"I can't take this anymore."*
His own tea
rs began to fall.
But this time, Yunar didn't know who he was crying for.
For Alya, who had given him a chance?
Or for the white-haired woman he kept abandoning every night, without knowing why?
---
*END OF CHAPTER 3*