The one day he stayed

The studio was buzzing with the usual late-night chaos, but Vanya could hardly focus. The sound of chalk scraping across the board, the soft mutterings of her classmates — it all faded as her phone buzzed again.

Another message from Shrey.

She glared at it, annoyed. She had already ignored his last five texts, but this one had a different tone. A demanding one. She read it twice before tossing her phone on the table, sighing deeply.

“Everything alright?” Yuvi asked from across the table, his voice cutting through her frustration. He had been sketching, but the lines on his paper were only half-finished as his eyes locked with hers, waiting for an answer.

She took a deep breath, pushing her sketchpad aside. “I don’t know… He’s just been on my case lately. I can’t even focus anymore, and I don’t even want to explain it to him. It’s the same thing over and over.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Yuvi’s gaze softened, but he didn’t interrupt. He was always quiet when it came to listening. But there was something about the way he was looking at her now — like he was actually hearing her words, feeling the weight behind them.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time, she couldn't hold back her frustration. “He doesn’t get it. I’m here, trying to do something for myself, and he thinks it’s some kind of betrayal that I don’t drop everything to answer him. I feel like I’m losing myself in this.”

Yuvi set his pencil down and leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “Shrey doesn’t get it because he’s not seeing you — the real you. He’s seeing the version that always has to be there, always has to respond, always has to act a certain way. Maybe he doesn’t realize he’s suffocating you.”

She stared at him, surprised by how calm he was about it, how unaffected.

He gave her a small, knowing smile. “But you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ll figure it out. You just have to make him see it, too.”

Vanya’s eyes stung a little. He wasn’t trying to fix things. He was just listening, quietly accepting her feelings without judgment.

Before she even realized it, her head was resting on his shoulder, her exhaustion taking over. She blinked, startled by her own action, but he didn’t pull away. His shoulder was warm, solid — like he was offering a small, safe place in the middle of the chaos.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to know,” he whispered back, his voice low and comforting. “You’re allowed to just be. And I’m here, alright? You’re not alone.”

For a moment, she just stayed there, feeling the comfort of his presence, the steadiness he offered without needing anything in return.

When she finally pulled away, she looked at him, embarrassed by how much she’d just laid bare. But he just gave her that soft, easy smile of his — no teasing, no awkwardness.

“I’m glad you told me,” he said quietly. “I’ll always listen.”