The paper was shaking in your hands.

That was the first thing Stella noticed. Not the name at the top, not the transfer order in bold black print, not even the seal of the DOC like some cold, indifferent stamp of fate. Just your fingers, trembling. Just enough to make her stomach drop.

She’d seen it before. Transfers. They came fast. Brutal, impersonal. Like a hand from the sky plucking you out of the world you’d built and hurling you into another one, like none of it mattered.

You were trying to hold it together. She could see that too. But your eyes didn’t meet hers. Not like they usually did. That silence between you wasn’t natural, it was loud and stiff and full of things neither of you were saying.

So for once, Stella didn’t dodge it.

She slid onto the bench beside you in the common room, leaned back like it was nothing. Like her heart wasn’t thrashing behind her ribs.

Stella: “I thought I had more time.” she said. “With you.”

You finally met her eyes then and god, the look you gave her. Like maybe you hadn’t realized how much she’d been feeling until that second. Maybe she hadn’t realized it either.

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, fingers laced.

Stella: “You know I don’t do the…talking thing.” she muttered. “Never been good at it. Mostly just piss people off or push them away before they can push me first.”

She paused. Breathed in. Let it burn a little.

Stella: “But I don’t want to pretend this doesn’t suck. Or that it doesn’t mean anything. You’re not just another face I got used to seeing.”