Juno wasn't thrilled.
"You're getting in deep," he warned Raka during a late-night gaming session, fingers still casually tapping the controller. "And you don't even know if she likes you back."
Raka didn't take his eyes off the screen. "I think she does."
"You think?" Juno scoffed. "Bro, that girl replies to your feelings with 'I'm glad.' That's not affection, that's emotional starvation, man."
Raka chuckled softly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "She's just... different."
Juno paused the game and turned to him. His voice softened, but his words stayed firm. "Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm saying: protect yourself. You've fallen headfirst into a maybe. And maybe break people."
Raka didn't respond right away.
He knew Juno wasn't wrong. He had given more. He texted first. Asked more questions. Took more chances. It wasn't an even balance.
But Juno didn't see what Raka saw.
The shift in Nayla's eyes when they met in person. The pause before she spoke, as if weighing her words with care. The way she sent photos without captions, trusting him to understand their meaning. The quiet way she tried.
And Raka, he was patient. Not because he didn't know better, but because something in Nayla made him want to wait.
Later that night, as Raka lay in bed, phone screen dim against the dark, a message popped up.
"Was I cold today?"
He blinked.
"No. Why?" he replied.
A moment passed before her answer came:
"Just wondering. I'm trying not to be. For you."
His chest tightened.
Raka stared at the screen, reading it again and again before taking a screenshot and saving it in a locked folder. A digital keepsake. A small affirmation.
She was trying.
In her quiet way.
And for him, that was everything.