Luna sat at her desk, just one seat and a table away from Ivansia, who sat silently with her back stiff and unmoving.
She stared at Ivansia's back, feeling the heavy tension that hung between them.
Since this morning—ever since Ivansia walked into class with a pale face and tired, swollen eyes—Luna had wanted to talk to her.
She wanted to ask what was wrong, to offer help, or at the very least, let her know she wasn't alone.
She parted her lips and took a silent breath, her golden hair gently swaying with the motion.
But… no words came out.
She felt awkward—unsure where to start, or if Ivansia even wanted to talk at all.
There were so many things she wanted to say. So many questions piled up in her head.
But the moment she saw how fragile Ivansia looked, every word she'd prepared suddenly felt useless… or worse, like they'd only make things worse.
