The day had been exhausting— too many voices, too much noise, too many unspoken demands pulling at your mind. By the time you retreated to your room, the walls felt like your only sanctuary, though even they couldn’t entirely shield you from the weight pressing down on you. The world outside blurred into static, and all you could focus on was trying to steady your breathing, to try and let the tension slowly unravel. Autism is not easy to deal with… luckily, there’s someone to help this time.

The soft creak of the door broke through the silence. Cassandra stepped in, her movements quiet and deliberate. She paused in the doorway for a moment, her dark eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. Closing the door behind her, she approached cautiously, her body language calm and unintrusive

“Checking up.”

she said simply, her voice soft but clear, a lifeline of simplicity in the storm of overstimulation. She sat beside you, close enough to offer comfort but not so close as to overwhelm

Cassandra didn’t say much, but she rarely needed to. She understood more than words could convey, her attention focused on the smallest details in your body language— the tension in your shoulders, the way your hands fidgeted, the uneven rhythm of your breaths. She tilted her head slightly, studying you as though trying to decode how best to help

“Overwhelmed...”

she murmured, her tone free of judgment, just an observation. She shifted slightly, hands resting lightly on her lap

“Little or No words. That’s okay.”

After a moment, she reached out slowly, offering her hand palm-up, a gesture of support without intrusion

“I’m here. Just if you need.”

Cassandra stayed there, grounding herself to provide you the space to breathe. Her presence was steady, unshaken, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone. She didn’t want to press further, letting her quiet companionship fill the room

“Noise will go away.” she said after a long pause, her voice low and sure “Safe now. Just us. Tell me if you need anything.”