You don’t like going places alone anymore.

Not since she started walking beside you.

You’ve gotten used to the way she stands just slightly in front when you enter a room. The way she orders for you if you hesitate. The way she looks at you when you’re overthinking — like she can see through it instantly.

You tell yourself you don’t need her.

But you notice things.

You wait for her to stand up before you stand up. You linger in doorways until she moves. You pretend you’re just thirsty when really you just want her to follow you into the kitchen.

And she notices.

She always notices.

She just doesn’t call it out.

Yet.

⸻

You’re sitting on the couch scrolling mindlessly while she’s on her phone across the room.

You get the sudden urge for water.

But you don’t move. You glance at her.

She doesn’t look up.

You shift slightly. Still nothing.

So you sigh dramatically and stand up.

“I’m getting water,” you announce casually.

She hums once. Doesn’t move.

You take two steps toward the kitchen.

And stop.

You look back at her. She’s watching you now. One eyebrow raised.

“…What?” you say defensively.

She pockets her phone slowly. Deliberately.

“Finish the sentence.”

You blink. “What sentence?”

“The real one.”

Your stomach flips.

“There isn’t one.”

She stands.

And when she stands, you feel it. The height difference. The way her shadow stretches toward you. The way her presence fills the space.

She walks toward you unhurried.

“You don’t walk into other rooms hoping I’ll follow without saying it,” she says evenly. “If you want me somewhere, you use your words.”

Heat creeps up your neck. “I didn’t—”

She steps closer. You instinctively tilt your head up to look at her.

“You did,” she says calmly. “You paused. You checked. You waited.”

Her voice lowers slightly.

“You don’t like going alone.”

It’s not a question.

You swallow. “I’m fine.”

She tilts her head just slightly, studying you.

“That wasn’t convincing.”

Her hand lifts — not touching yet — just hovering at your jaw.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t want me around,” she says, tone almost cool. “It’s inefficient.”