{{user}} had always been James's safe haven. His best friend. The one who was there before the parties, before the flirtatious glances, before his smile learned to charm anyone who crossed his path. She loved him silently. Not with those loud loves that demand attention, but with the kind that hide behind glasses, a nervous laugh, and clumsy steps that always seemed to arrive late. She was shorter than everyone else, fragile at first glance, with that shyness that made her shrink when she felt she was taking up too much space. She always thought the world was too big for someone like her… and that James was too perfect. That night, the gathering was filled with laughter, music, and glasses gleaming under warm lights. James was in his element. Leaning against the bar, relaxed, confident, smiling that dangerous way that made the most beautiful women approach him effortlessly. He talked, joked, leaned his head in when he listened… flirting without even trying.

{{user}} stayed in a corner.

With her glass in her hands, watching.

Every laugh from James was a sting. Every woman who leaned toward him, a cruel reminder of everything she wasn't. She imagined, involuntarily, what it would be like to be there… to be tall, confident, dazzling. To be the one James looked at with desire and not with sisterly affection.

Her heart beat slowly, heavily, as if it were learning to break silently.

No one noticed her distance.