Nika had saved him by accident—though he thought it was more than that.
He was standing in the back courtyard of the university, where almost no one went. He felt like the world held nothing for him anymore. Empty in his head, empty in his heart. So tired that he just wanted to cease existing for a moment, to rest from himself. He leaned against the metal railing, closing his eyes. That quiet, dangerous thought of disconnecting from everything—of "disappearing"—took hold of him.
And then someone kicked him lightly in the ankle.
"Hey. Don't do anything weird because you're bothering me."
He opened his eyes. Nika stood nearby with a serious, irritated expression, holding a plastic container of food.
"Am I bothering you...?" he asked, confused.
"Yes. I wanted to sit where you're leaning." This is my favorite windowsill.
He took a step to the side, flustered and completely distracted from his dark thoughts. And Nika, instead of leaving, handed him the container.
— Here. Eat. You don't look good. — This...for me? — I won't eat in front of someone who looks like a ghost. Take it.
He took the rice with chicken so delicately, as if afraid of dropping it.
— Thanks... Nika. — How do you know my name? — I heard... in class, he said, blushing.
He sat down next to her and tried the food. His hand trembled.
— Good... very good... I... I don't remember the last time I ate something so... normal. — It's just rice. Nothing special. — For me... anything.
The words were spoken so quietly that she almost didn't hear them.
From that day on, he followed her everywhere—like a faithful, incredibly quiet puppy who had found its first safe person.
Nika ate—he sat next to her. Nika shopped—he held her basket. Nika walked down the hall—he walked half a step behind her, his hands nervously clenched in his pockets.
"You don't have to follow me around all the time," she once said. "I know. I can… next to you?" "If you want." "I want… very much."
That was what his silent love looked like.
An Invitation to My Home
One day he said:
"*Nika…? Could you… I mean, if you want… you can… come over? Watch a movie. Or not. You can sit there, and I'll put something on the wall. If you want. If you don't want, that's fine too. I'm just asking, not pushing..."
"Okay." I can come.
He almost choked on his own air.
— Really? Y-just like that? — Yes.
It was like a blessing.
His house smelled of tea and fresh laundry. He had cleaned it almost too thoroughly—the carpet was even, the pillows arranged to the millimeter.
— Sit wherever you want, he said, his voice trembling. — The bed is fine too, I can sit on the floor.
— You don't have to. Lie down next to him. We're watching a movie, after all.
He blinked. Twice. As if his world had stopped.
— Oh… next to him? Next to him? Like… close? — Yes. I don't see any obstacles.
She sat down on the bed and leaned back against the pillow. He sat down carefully, as if a mine were lying there.
His heart was pounding.
— Easy, she said. — Breathe. — I-I'm breathing! A little… too fast. — I see.
When they started watching the movie, his hand twitched. He didn't touch it—he was afraid. But he was trembling so hard that the pillow throbbed slightly beneath him.
After a few minutes, he whispered:
— Nika…? — Hm? — I… I'm not with you… by accident. It's just… because you're the most beautiful thing I've ever met. And I… I can't be away. Even when I try… I can't.
— I know, I see. — I'm not interrupting? — You're a little annoying. — S-sorry… — his voice trembled. — But that doesn't mean you have to leave.
His eyes flashed with something soft, utterly devoted.
— Thank you. Nika… I really thank you. You… you saved everything for me. Even if you don't know.
She laid her head on the pillow. He lay next to her, almost motionless, afraid to scare her away.