Chapter 20: Alignment

  It was raining the night Mira knocked on Lena’s door.

  Not a heavy storm—just a quiet, misting drizzle that blurred the campus lights and made the air smell like damp earth and wet stone. Lena hadn’t expected her. She hadn’t texted. Hadn’t ordered Mira to come. But when she opened the door and saw Mira standing there, damp curls clinging to her cheeks, holding her tote bag like it was the only thing keeping her grounded—

  Lena’s chest ached.

  “You’re soaked,” she murmured.

  “I didn’t know where else to go,” Mira said, voice too soft, too small.

  Something in those words undid Lena’s composure. Just a little.

  Lena stepped back, her hand trailing from Mira’s wrist to her fingers like she didn’t want to let go. Mira followed her in, barefoot and quiet.

  Lena’s room was warm with mplight, a soft gold glow cast across the floor and sheets. Books were stacked neatly by the desk. The bed was made. A cup of untouched tea sat on the nightstand, still faintly steaming. It smelled like chamomile and honey.

  Mira stood there, fidgeting.

  Lena turned, leaned against the edge of her desk, and just looked at her.

  “You’ve been spiraling,” she said softly. Not accusing. Just… observing.

  Mira nodded. “I know.”

  “And you came here instead of running from it.”

  Another nod. A little slower this time.

  “Good,” Lena said. Not like praise. Like something relieved, quiet, and real.

  Mira’s voice wavered. “I didn’t know if I was allowed to.”

  The admission made Lena pause.

  Then she pushed away from the desk and stepped forward. Her hands cupped Mira’s face—not controlling, not possessive, just there. Steady. Warm.

  “You don’t have to wait for permission to come to me.”

  “But I didn’t know what we are.” Mira’s voice broke slightly. “I still don’t. And I kept thinking if I asked, I’d ruin it.”

  Lena’s thumb brushed over her cheek. “What did you think asking would ruin?”

  “The… the way you look at me. The way you handle me. It’s like you always know what I need before I do. And it scares me, but it also… makes me feel safe. Like I belong somewhere.” Her eyes shimmered. “But if I said that out loud and you didn’t feel the same, I’d—”

  Lena kissed her. Not hard. Not with hunger. Just enough to hush her.

  When she pulled back, her voice was low.

  “You do belong somewhere. You belong here. With me.”

  Mira blinked fast. “But I’m a mess.”

  Lena smiled faintly. “So am I.”

  They stood there for a moment. Just breathing. Mira’s hands clung to the hem of Lena’s shirt, her knuckles white.

  “Can I ask you something?” Mira whispered.

  “Always.”

  “When you’re with me like that—when you’re in control—are you just pying a role? Or is that really you?”

  Lena’s gaze darkened in a way that made Mira’s stomach flutter.

  “It’s me. Every time.” Her voice softened. “I don’t touch people the way I touch you unless I mean it.”

  Mira exhaled slowly. “I think I want it to be you. Like that. I think I need it.”

  Lena brushed her fingers through Mira’s hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Then you’ll have it. All of it. But not because you’re needy or broken or confused.” Her voice grew firmer. “Because you want it. Because we do.”

  That cracked something open in Mira. She stepped closer, tucked her face into Lena’s shoulder, and exhaled like she hadn’t been breathing for days.

  “I thought I had to be quiet about it. Like it was too much.”

  “It’s not,” Lena said. Her arms wrapped around her, grounding. “You’re not.”

  They stayed like that. No rush. No fire this time—just warmth.

  After a while, Lena shifted and led her toward the bed. She didn’t undress her. Didn’t push. She just guided Mira to lie down beside her, one of Lena’s arms curled securely around her waist, Mira’s head tucked against her chest.

  “I want more,” Mira murmured into the silence.

  Lena’s voice was gentle against her hair. “More what?”

  “This. You. Us. I don’t need a bel, but I want to belong to you… really. Not just when we py. Not just in secret.”

  A moment of stillness.

  Then Lena’s lips pressed against her temple.

  “You already do.”

  And something about the way she said it—like it was the most obvious truth in the world—settled everything inside Mira.

  She closed her eyes. Lena’s heartbeat was slow beneath her ear. Her hand stayed firm around her waist, anchoring her.

  Mira didn’t have all the answers. But for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel lost.

  She felt held.

  And she didn’t let go.