Chapter 2
1336 Words
Melina POV
I didn’t answer Seyra immediately.
Her question lingered in the air between us, light and simple, yet unbearably heavy to me.
Do you want to be friends with me?
It was such an ordinary question. Children asked it all the time. Yet I had never known how to respond to it. Friendship was something I observed from afar, like a scene through a window I was never allowed to open.
I stared at her for a long moment.
Her younger brother stood slightly behind her, peeking at me with curiosity, his small fingers clutching the edge of her sleeve. Seyra herself didn’t rush me. She didn’t repeat the question or pressure me for an answer. She simply waited, her expression calm, her eyes steady.
No impatience.
No judgment.
Just quiet expectation.
“I’m not very fun,” I said at last.
My voice sounded flat, almost lifeless even to my own ears. It was the truth—or at least the version of truth I believed in. I didn’t laugh much. I didn’t talk much. I didn’t know how to entertain people or keep conversations alive.
Seyra blinked, then smiled.
“That’s okay,” she said easily. “I’m fun enough for both of us.”
That answer caught me off guard.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Her confidence wasn’t arrogant. It wasn’t loud or overwhelming. It was simple, natural—like breathing.
“I don’t really talk,” I added quietly, as if warning her.
“That’s okay too,” she replied without hesitation. “I talk a lot.”
Her younger brother giggled, as if agreeing with her statement.
I should have walked away then.
I should have politely refused and returned to my room, where silence waited for me like an old companion. That was what I always did. That was what I knew.
But something stopped me.
Perhaps it was the morning light filtering through the open workshop.
Perhaps it was the gentle wind brushing past us.
Or perhaps it was the way Seyra looked at me—not as if she wanted something from me, but as if she simply wanted me.
“…Okay,” I said.
The word left my mouth before I could stop it.
Seyra’s eyes widened slightly, then lit up with unmistakable joy.
“Really?” she asked.
I nodded once.
“Yes.”
That single word felt heavier than I expected. Accepting her friendship felt like stepping onto unfamiliar ground, uncertain whether it would hold my weight.
But Seyra didn’t hesitate at all.
She smiled brightly and clapped her hands once, excitement radiating from her entire being.
“I’m glad,” she said. “I was worried you’d say no.”
“I almost did,” I admitted quietly.
She laughed, not offended in the slightest.
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
Her brother tugged at her sleeve. “Seyra, can we play now?”
She turned to him. “In a bit. I’m talking to Melina.”
The way she said my name felt strange. It sounded different when spoken by someone else—softer, more real.
She looked back at me. “Do you want to stay here, or do you want to walk around?”
I hesitated again.
“I don’t mind,” I said.
She tilted her head. “Then let’s walk.”
And just like that, she made the decision for both of us.
We walked slowly around the area near the house. Seyra talked as we went, filling the silence with stories about school, her brothers, and random things she found interesting. I listened quietly, occasionally nodding or giving short replies.
She didn’t seem bothered by my lack of words.
“That workshop is where Dad fixes stuff,” she explained, pointing behind us. “He says it’s relaxing. I don’t really get it.”
“I like it,” I said without thinking.
She stopped walking and looked at me with surprise.
“You do?”
I nodded. “It’s quiet.”
Her smile softened. “I like quiet too. Just… not all the time.”
That made sense to me.
We sat under a tree not far from the house. Seyra’s brother eventually ran off to play on his own, leaving us alone. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It felt… comfortable.
Seyra leaned back against the tree trunk.
“You don’t talk much,” she said gently.
“I told you.”
“I know,” she replied. “I just want to understand you better.”
No one had ever said that to me before.
“You don’t have to,” I said quickly.
“But I want to.”
Her answer was simple, but it made my chest feel tight.
“…There’s nothing special about me,” I said after a pause.
She turned her head slightly to look at me. “I think there is.”
I frowned. “Why?”
She thought about it for a moment. “You listen.”
I didn’t understand. “Everyone listens.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Most people just wait for their turn to talk. You actually listen.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that.
We stayed under the tree for a long time. At some point, Seyra started plucking fallen leaves and arranging them into small patterns on the ground.
“What do you like to do?” she asked suddenly.
I blinked. “I don’t know.”
She looked at me. “You must like something.”
“I like walking,” I said slowly. “And sitting somewhere quiet.”
She smiled. “Then we can do that together.”
The idea felt strange. Doing things together was not something I was used to.
Later that day, she knocked on my door.
I stared at it for a long moment before opening it.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Do you want to play?” she asked.
“Play what?”
She shrugged. “Anything.”
I hesitated, then stepped aside to let her in.
My room was plain. Clean, but empty. No decorations. No toys. Just a bed, a desk, and a bookshelf with a few old books.
Seyra looked around quietly.
“You like reading?” she asked.
“Sometimes.”
She picked up one of the books. “Can you read this to me?”
I sat on the edge of the bed and opened the book. My voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but she listened attentively. When I stopped, she asked questions. When I struggled to explain, she waited patiently.
It felt… nice.
In the following days, we spent more time together.
We walked in the mornings.
We sat together in silence.
We talked—mostly her, sometimes me.
She laughed easily. I didn’t.
But she never tried to force me to change.
One afternoon, we played a simple game using pebbles and sticks. She made up rules as we went along, changing them whenever she got bored.
“That’s cheating,” I said quietly.
She grinned. “It’s only cheating if you get caught.”
I stared at her.
Then, without realizing it, a small sound escaped my throat.
A laugh.
It was soft and brief, but it was real.
Seyra froze.
“Did you just laugh?” she asked.
I felt my face heat up. “No.”
She leaned closer. “You did.”
“…Maybe.”
Her smile widened. “I like that sound.”
I looked away, embarrassed.
As days passed, something inside me began to change.
I started waiting for her footsteps.
Listening for her voice.
Noticing when she wasn’t around.
When she smiled at me, my chest felt lighter. When she wasn’t there, the world felt quieter than usual—too quiet.
I didn’t think much of it.
At least, not yet.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t completely alone.
And for now, that was enough.
- Writer
