After their heartfelt conversation, neither Sam nor Mahiru felt the need to say anything more. The air between them had shifted—not in a dramatic way, but in something subtler, more comforting.
They knew now. That was enough.
Still, neither of them made a move to leave.
Mahiru glanced at Sam, who was now staring up at the sky, a small, thoughtful smile on his lips. His usual teasing demeanor had softened, replaced with something gentler.
It was rare to see him like this.
"...What are you thinking about?" she asked quietly.
Sam blinked, as if snapping out of a thought. He turned to her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small smirk, he said, "Just wondering how long you're going to keep staring at me."
Mahiru huffed, crossing her arms. "I was not staring."
Sam chuckled. "Sure you weren't."
Mahiru turned away, her face warm. Even after everything, he still found a way to fluster her.
But then, after a brief pause, she heard his voice again—softer this time.
"...I was just thinking about how nice this feels," he admitted.
Mahiru turned back to him, her irritation forgotten.
"...Yeah," she murmured. "Me too."
It was strange—how something so simple, just sitting together like this, could feel so significant.
Maybe it was because they had spent so long avoiding this conversation, unsure of what it would change.
But now that it was out in the open, now that they had finally acknowledged it…
Nothing had changed.
And yet, everything had.
Mahiru let out a quiet sigh, leaning back against the bench.
The cold air nipped at her skin, but it didn't bother her as much anymore.
Not when Sam was beside her.
Not when she knew, without a doubt, that he always would be.
For the first time in a long time, Mahiru wasn't afraid of what came next.
Because whatever it was… they would face it together.
And that was all that mattered.
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