Riven knew something was wrong the moment he stepped through the school gates.
It wasn't loud. No one pointed. No one laughed outright.
It was worse than that.
Eyes lingered.
Whispers stopped when he passed. Conversations dipped into murmurs that felt like they followed him anyway. Someone nudged someone else. A phone camera tilted just a little too obviously before lowering again.
Riven kept his head down.
Breathe, he told himself. Just get through the day.
His bag felt heavier than usual. Every step echoed in his ears like he was walking into something he couldn't see but knew was waiting.
When he reached his classroom, Eli was already there.
Their eyes met — just for a second — and something eased inside Riven's chest.
Eli didn't smile. He didn't wave.
He just shifted his chair slightly closer, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Riven sat beside him.
"Morning," Eli murmured.
"Morning," Riven replied, his voice softer than he meant it to be.
They didn't touch. Not yet.
But the space between them felt guarded. Intentional.
The lesson began, but Riven barely heard it.
A whisper floated from behind them.
"So it's true."
Another voice, sharper. "My cousin saw them last night."
Riven's fingers curled around his pen until his knuckles ached.
He felt like a secret everyone suddenly knew.
Eli leaned closer, just enough for only Riven to hear. "Ignore it."
Riven nodded, though his chest felt tight. "I'm trying."
By lunchtime, the tension had thickened.
Someone "accidentally" bumped Riven's shoulder in the hallway. Another student laughed a little too loudly when Eli reached for his wrist and then hesitated, pulling his hand back.
They ended up sitting at the edge of the cafeteria.
Riven stared at his food, appetite gone.
"I should've just gone home yesterday," he said quietly.
Eli looked at him. "Why?"
"Because now it feels like… everything I touch gets complicated." Riven swallowed. "Your family. This. You."
Eli's jaw tightened. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Turn yourself into the problem," Eli said, low but firm. "This isn't on you."
Riven let out a shaky breath. "It doesn't stop it from hurting."
Before Eli could respond, a voice cut in.
"Well," someone said, standing too close, "guess the rumors weren't exaggerated."
Riven froze.
It was one of Eli's classmates — someone popular enough to feel untouchable.
Eli stood immediately. "Back off."
The student smirked. "Relax. I'm just curious. You finally decided to stop pretending?"
Riven's ears rang.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Eli stepped in front of him.
"That's enough," Eli said. His voice didn't shake, but his hands did. "Say whatever you want about me. But leave him out of it."
The smile faltered.
"Wow," the student muttered. "Protective much?"
Eli didn't respond.
After a tense second, the student scoffed and walked away.
The cafeteria noise rushed back in, like nothing had happened.
Riven stared at the table, heart pounding.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Eli turned to him. "For what?"
"For making you choose," Riven said. "For putting you in the middle of this."
Eli exhaled slowly, then sat back down. "Riven… I chose you long before today."
Riven looked up, eyes burning.
"You don't get to decide you're a burden," Eli continued. "Especially not to me."
Something inside Riven cracked — not loudly, not all at once — but enough that he had to look away.
The rest of the day passed in fragments.
Teachers talking. Bells ringing. Stares that didn't stop.
But every time Riven felt like he might fold, Eli was there — walking beside him, waiting outside classrooms, sharing silence like it was something solid.
After school, they stood near the gate.
"I'm scared," Riven admitted finally.
Eli nodded. "Me too."
"But we're still here," Riven said.
Eli reached for his hand — not hiding it this time.
"Yes," he said. "We are."
Around them, the world kept watching.
But for that moment, Riven let himself believe that being seen didn't have to mean being broken.
Not when someone was willing to stand with him.