The bus seat vibrated slightly at every curve of the road. The teacher did any count in front, but {{user}} kept his eyes glued to the window, as if that were important. As if the world outside was easier to face than the one inside it.

The bench next door was empty. For a short time.

Tadhg appeared out of nowhere, as he sometimes did, and threw the backpack at his feet before sitting next to her. No word. Just a brief look - and attentive.

She pretended she didn’t notice.

He also pretended.

The silence between them was already familiar. But not uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, she heard the slight sound of a cell phone unlocking. Without saying anything, Tadhg took a phone out of his coat pocket, put one in his own ear... and extended the other in her direction.

She hesitated.

But he accepted.

The sound of an old indie band filled the space between them. She recognized the knock. I had commented on liking that once. Just one. And he remembered.

The road stretched outside. They didn’t say anything. But when her head slowly hung to the side and touched his shoulder... he didn’t move.

It stayed there. Property.

As if I didn’t dare to break the moment.

Her fingers loosened the notebook on her lap. The eyes closed. The phone was still in the ear.

Tadhg looked from the corner. And, for a moment, he let his eyes rest on her - in the long eyelashes, in the soft strokes, in the tense way that gradually seemed to give way. He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that silent confidence like a stone in his chest.

And then, she stirred. An involuntary contraction. A muffled sound escaped from her lips, something like a request or a contained sigh.

“No...” she murmured, still asleep. Breathing became irregular.

Nightmare.

Tadhg acted in the same second. His hand found hers on the bench, his fingers intertwining with care, firmness and calm. Not to wake her up. But to anchor her there.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, as if he could cross the dream. “I’m here.”

And it stayed.

She didn’t wake up right away, but her body relaxed. Breathing slowed down. The head remained on his shoulder.

He didn’t even move when the bus stopped for lunch.

Because at that moment, he understood something that had no name.

And the world suddenly became even quieter.

But in a good way.