Chapter 23

Zivah stayed for a moment longer beside the bed.

Eraya’s breathing had evened out completely now,

soft,

slow,

unguarded.

One hand rested loosely over the blanket,

the other curled near her cheek,

as if even in sleep she still held onto something invisible.

Zivah’s gaze softened.

There was something about seeing her like this,

without tension,

without restraint,

that made her chest ache in a way she didn’t fully understand.

She looks… peaceful.

And that thought alone felt unfamiliar.

Carefully, almost reverently, Zivah leaned forward.

Her hand hovered for a second,

like she was asking permission from a silence that wouldn’t answer.

Then she pressed the softest kiss against Eraya’s forehead.

Barely there.

But real.

“…I’ll take care of you,”

she whispered.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t loud.

It was quiet.

Certain.

Like a promise she had already decided to keep.

She stood up slowly, making sure the mattress didn’t shift too much.

Her movements were careful now,

not just out of habit, but because this moment felt… fragile.

She didn’t want to disturb it.

Didn’t want to risk breaking something that had taken so long to exist.

When she stepped out of the room,

she paused at the door for just a second.

Looking back once.

Then she closed it gently.

The apartment felt… too quiet.

Too still.

And for the first time since everything Eraya had said,

Zivah realized something.

I can’t hold this alone.

The thoughts in her head weren’t settling.

They were building.

Layering.

Becoming heavier with every second.

The anger.

The helplessness.

The need to do something.

So she didn’t sit.

Didn’t distract herself.

She just picked up her phone, slipped into her slippers, and walked out.

The door next door opened almost immediately.

Anamika didn’t even need to ask who it was.

One look at Zivah’s face,

and she knew.

Something was wrong.

She didn’t say what happened?

Didn’t rush into questions.

She just stepped aside silently.

“…come in.”

Zivah walked in without a word.

Her usual composure still there, but thinner now.

Like it was being held together by effort.

She sat on the couch.

Slowly.

Her hands resting on her knees.

Her gaze fixed somewhere on the floor.

Shivani, who had been mid-complaint about something trivial seconds ago, went quiet immediately.

She exchanged a quick look with Anamika.

Then both of them moved closer.

Not crowding.

Just… present.

No one spoke.

For a few seconds.

Then longer.

Because they knew,

Zivah would talk when she was ready.

Shivani leaned forward slightly, her voice softer than usual.

“…is it about Eraya?”

Zivah nodded.

Just once.

That was enough.

Shivani’s expression changed instantly.

The usual sharpness in her eyes softened into something more attentive.

“…what happened?”

Zivah exhaled slowly.

And then,

she started speaking.

She told them everything.

Not rushed.

Not dramatic.

But… detailed.

Every part.

The walking.

The distance.

The pain.

The scars.

The fact that she had never been allowed to rest.

The fact that she had never taken an afternoon nap.

And the more she spoke,

the quieter the room became.

By the time she finished,

Shivani’s eyes were already wet.

She didn’t even try to hide it.

“…what the hell…”

Her voice cracked.

“…what the actual hell…”

Before Zivah could say anything,

Shivani stood up.

Walked straight to her.

And pulled her into a tight hug.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t composed.

It was raw.

Immediate.

“I just… I just want to hug her,”

Shivani said, her voice breaking slightly.

“Like properly hug her and not let her go because what even is that, what kind of life is that, who does that to someone-“

Zivah let out a small breath against her shoulder.

Not quite a laugh.

But something close.

Shivani pulled back slightly, wiping her face in the most ungraceful way possible.

Then suddenly,

her expression changed.

Her eyes sharpened.

And she stood up straight like she had just made a decision.

“That’s it.”

Anamika blinked.

“…what?”

“I’m not letting this go,” Shivani declared, pacing now.

“I swear if I ever see that Thakur or anyone from that house-“

“Sit down Shivi.”

Zivah’s voice was calm.

But firm.

Shivani stopped mid-step.

“…but-“

“Sit.”

There was a pause.

Then Shivani huffed dramatically and dropped back onto the couch.

“…fine. But I’m still angry.”

“Good,” Zivah muttered quietly.

“…you should be.”

Anamika, who had been quiet this entire time, finally spoke.

Her voice softer.

More grounded.

“…someone so soft shouldn’t have gone through that.”

There was no exaggeration in her tone.

No dramatics.

Just… truth.

Shivani’s gaze dropped.

Her fingers twisted together.

“…I used to think she was just… distant,”

she admitted quietly.

“Like she didn’t care about anyone or anything. That she was just ignoring everyone because she thought she was better or something…”

Her voice faltered.

“…I was so wrong.”

Zivah looked at her.

And something in her expression softened.

“…you didn’t know.”

Shivani shook her head.

“…but I still judged her.”

Zivah leaned back slightly, her voice quieter now.

“…we all judge what we don’t understand.”

A pause.

“…the important part is what you do after you do understand.”

Shivani let out a small breath.

Then nodded.

Slowly.

“…there’s something else,” she said after a moment.

Zivah looked at her.

“…what?”

Shivani hesitated.

Then said,

“…Ananya said something in class today.”

Zivah’s expression changed instantly.

“…what did she say?”

Shivani’s jaw tightened.

“…she said you deserve a better friend than Eraya.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Sharp.

Zivah’s hands clenched slightly.

“…and?”

“…and Eraya heard it.”

That was enough.

Zivah leaned forward slightly, her voice lower now.

“…did she say anything?”

Shivani shook her head.

“…no. But she went quiet after that.”

Zivah’s gaze dropped for a second.

Her mind connecting everything.

The silence at lunch.

The flicker in her eyes.

“…she believed it.”

Anamika said quietly.

Both Zivah and Shivani looked at her.

Anamika leaned forward slightly, her voice calm but firm.

“…she believed it because she already believes every bad thing about herself.”

That landed.

Hard.

Zivah exhaled slowly.

“…yeah that makes sense Anu.”

Shivani frowned.

“…so what do we do? We can’t let her believe what she isn’t.”

There was a pause.

A long one.

Not empty.

Just… thoughtful.

Then Anamika spoke again.

“…we don’t just tell her she’s wrong.”

Shivani tilted her head.

“…then what?”

“…we show her.”

Anamika’s voice was steady now.

“…again and again. In small ways. Until it starts to feel real to her.”

Zivah’s gaze lifted slightly.

“…how?”

Anamika leaned back slightly, thinking.

“…we break the pattern.”

A pause.

“…every time she expects something bad, we give her something good instead.”

Shivani blinked.

“…that sounds like psychological warfare.”

Anamika smirked.

“…it kind of is.”

Zivah let out a small breath.

“…no big gestures.”

Anamika nodded.

“…exactly. Just consistency.”

Shivani leaned forward, suddenly energized.

“…so like-compliments?”

“…not fake ones,” Anamika said immediately.

“…real ones.”

“…and actions,” Zivah added quietly.

“…not just words.”

Shivani snapped her fingers.

“…I can do that.”

Then paused.

“…wait, can I do that?”

Anamika gave her a look.

“…try not to insult her while doing it.”

Shivani gasped.

“…that was one time.”

Zivah huffed out a small laugh.

The tension easing just a little.

“…I’ll handle the emotional stability,” Anamika said dryly.

“…you handle the chaos.”

Shivani grinned.

“…perfect. I excel at chaos.”

Zivah shook her head slightly.

But there was a faint smile on her lips now.

“…we’ll fix this,” she said quietly.

Not as a question.

As a decision.

And for the first time since she had walked in,

the weight in her chest felt just a little lighter.

Not gone.

But shared.

Because she wasn’t holding it alone anymore.

Night had settled gently over the apartment.

Not loud.

Not heavy.

Just… there.

A quiet presence wrapping itself around the walls, the furniture,

the spaces that had slowly begun to hold something more than just objects,

something warmer,

something lived in.

Zivah stood outside the bedroom door for a moment.

Her fingers resting lightly against the wood.

Not knocking.

Not entering.

Just… pausing.

Because inside,

Eraya was sleeping.

And even though it had only been a nap,

it felt like something sacred.

Something that shouldn’t be disturbed carelessly.

She actually slept.

The thought lingered.

Soft.

Almost unbelievable.

Zivah exhaled slowly and stepped away.

Moving toward the kitchen, her steps quieter than usual.

She poured herself a glass of water but didn’t drink it immediately.

Just held it.

Her mind drifting.

She didn’t even know how to rest.

The realization still hadn’t settled properly.

It kept coming back in waves.

Each time hitting a little deeper.

She leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes for a second.

Not out of exhaustion.

But to steady something inside her.

Because caring,

really caring,

wasn’t something she had done like this before.

Not this deeply.

Not this instinctively.

A faint sound from the bedroom made her open her eyes.

Not loud.

Just… movement.

She turned her head slightly.

Listened.

Then walked toward the door again.

This time,

she knocked.

Soft.

Barely there.

“…Eraya?”

No response.

Zivah opened the door just a little.

Carefully.

And looked inside.

Eraya was awake.

Not fully sitting up.

Still half-curled under the blanket.

Her hair slightly messy now, a few strands falling across her face.

Her eyes unfocused for a second,

like she was still somewhere between sleep and waking.

Zivah didn’t step in immediately.

Just leaned against the doorframe.

“…did I wake you?”

Eraya blinked slowly.

Then shook her head.

“…no.”

Her voice was softer than usual.

Thicker.

Carrying the remnants of sleep.

“…I think I woke up on my own.”

Zivah nodded slightly.

But her gaze lingered.

Taking in the way Eraya looked now,

different.

Not guarded.

Not distant.

Just… quiet.

“…how do you feel?”

The question came gently.

Without urgency.

Eraya shifted slightly.

Her fingers brushing against the blanket.

As if checking something.

Or maybe grounding herself again.

“…lighter.”

She said it slowly.

Like she was testing the word.

“…I think.”

Zivah’s lips curved just a little.

Not into a full smile.

But enough.

“…that’s a good start.”

Eraya looked at her then.

Really looked.

There was something in her gaze,

not confusion.

Not fear.

Something softer.

Something that hadn’t been there before.

“…I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

The words slipped out quietly.

Zivah stepped into the room now.

Not all the way.

Just enough to close the door behind her.

“…most things feel different when you’re not used to them.”

She said it simply.

Then added, softer,

“…especially the good ones.”

A small silence followed.

Not uncomfortable.

Just… full.

Eraya sat up slowly.

The blanket falling slightly from her shoulders.

“…you stayed?”

Zivah frowned slightly.

“…where else would I go?”

Eraya hesitated.

Then looked away.

“…I don’t know.”

Zivah watched her for a moment.

Then walked closer.

Sat at the edge of the bed again,

but this time near her side.

Not her feet.

“…I’m not going anywhere.”

Her voice wasn’t loud.

But it was certain.

Eraya didn’t respond.

But her shoulders relaxed just a little.

For a few seconds,

neither of them spoke.

Then Zivah broke the silence.

“…are you hungry?”

Eraya thought for a moment.

Then shook her head slightly.

“…not really.”

Zivah sighed softly.

Not annoyed.

Just… familiar.

“…you said that before dinner yesterday too.”

Eraya gave a faint, almost embarrassed smile.

“…I know.”

Zivah leaned back slightly.

Studying her.

“…then we’ll start small.”

She said after a moment.

“…not a full meal.”

A pause.

“…just something light.”

Eraya looked like she wanted to argue.

But didn’t.

“…okay.”

Zivah stood up.

“…stay here.”

She walked out without waiting for a response.

Eraya sat there for a second longer.

Her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket.

Stay here.

The words echoed in her mind.

No one had ever said that to her like this before.

Not as an instruction.

But as… care.

She lay back slowly.

Staring at the ceiling.

She came back.

The thought was quiet.

But steady.

She always comes back.

Her chest felt… strange.

Not heavy.

Not tight.

Just… full.

Zivah returned a few minutes later.

A small plate in her hand.

Some fruit.

Cut neatly.

Arranged without much thought, but still… thoughtfully.

She placed it on the bedside table.

Then looked at Eraya.

“…just a little.”

Eraya sat up again.

Reached for a piece slowly.

Zivah didn’t watch her directly.

Pretended to adjust something on the table.

But her attention was there.

Careful.

Observing.

Eraya took a bite.

Then another.

Not much.

But more than before.

Zivah noticed.

Didn’t comment.

Just… let it happen.

After a while, the plate was empty.

“…done?”

Zivah asked lightly.

Eraya nodded.

“…done.”

Zivah took the plate.

Set it aside.

Then hesitated for a moment.

“…can I ask you something?”

Eraya looked at her.

“…yes.”

Zivah’s fingers tapped lightly against her own arm.

Not nervous.

Just… thinking.

“…when you were there…”

She paused.

Choosing her words carefully.

“…did you ever feel like… you were allowed to just be?”

Eraya stilled.

The question settled slowly.

“…no.”

The answer came just as slowly.

Zivah nodded once.

Not surprised.

Just… confirming something she already knew.

“…then we’ll fix that too.”

Eraya’s brows furrowed slightly.

“…how?”

Zivah looked at her.

A small, almost teasing glint in her eyes now.

“…by annoying you until you get used to it.”

Eraya blinked.

Then,

unexpectedly,

she laughed.

Soft.

Light.

But real.

And this time,

Zivah didn’t just notice it.

She held onto it.

Because something about that sound,

felt like progress.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

But… real.

And for now,

that was enough.
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