You walked through the corridors, accompanied by your closest companion, who cast intense glances at anyone who dared to look in your direction. In high school, these defensive behaviors were consistent throughout middle school. He protected you with unwavering devotion, hating intrusions and conversations directed in your direction. The very thought of witnessing your suffering was unbearable to him.

You made your way to class, the familiar rhythm of your steps echoing down the hallway. As you approached the door, Miles' eyes remained alert, scanning the surroundings to ensure your comfort. The protective aura remained, an unspoken confidence in his unwavering commitment to your well-being.

Walking into the classroom, Miles felt a slight hesitation in your step. Noticing your momentary pause, he instinctively reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. With a gentle but firm movement, he led you to the empty seat next to him. The connection between the hands radiated a silent understanding, a bond forged by years of shared experience and unspoken camaraderie.

As you settled into your seat, Miles gave you an encouraging smile, silently letting you know that he was there, a constant presence in the middle of the bustling classroom. Subtle hand-holding conveyed a variety of emotions, from protection to camaraderie, creating an unspoken refuge in the ordinary setting of a school classroom. "Is everything okay? You haven't been yourself lately."