"You sure he's not just being nice?" Juno asked, twirling her fork lazily as they sat across from each other at their favorite little Italian spot.
Nayla stabbed her pasta a bit too forcefully. "He's… too consistent to just be nice."
Juno raised an eyebrow. "Some guys are just like that. Friendly. Thoughtful."
Nayla frowned. "Why are you doubting this?"
"I'm not doubting him," Juno replied calmly. "I'm doubting you. Because every time someone starts caring, really caring, you pull away. It's like clockwork."
"I don't"
"You do. And you know it."
Nayla fell quiet, her hand frozen mid-stir. The clink of plates and soft hum of dinner conversations filled the space between them. Juno wasn't saying it to attack. She was just… right.
She always was.
"I just…" Nayla looked down at her plate. "I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not," Juno said without hesitation. "But even if you were — let him decide that. Stop choosing people on whether you're worth caring about."
Nayla's throat tightened. She blinked a few times, eyes suddenly burning with unspoken thoughts.
"You're scared," Juno said, her voice softer now. "And it's okay. But don't confuse fear with instinct. Not everyone walks away."
Nayla couldn't look up. Couldn't form a reply.
"You like him," Juno added, more gently this time.
There was no answer. Just a quiet, betrayed blush creeping up Nayla's cheeks like a confession her mouth refused to speak.
Juno smiled knowingly and leaned back in her chair. "Then maybe… let yourself be liked back, for once."
And for the first time in a long time, Nayla didn't argue.