"Even when they're trying to hide it"
It's been weeks now, maybe months.
I keep catching them in moments that aren't quite moments,
but also aren't not.
The way Honami slides a notebook across the table to Kanade
and doesn't wait for a thank you.
The way Kanade lingers just a second too long by her side,
like she's afraid if she moves, she'll miss something.
I've watched them from the corner of the room,
laughing quietly at the subtle choreography
they don't even know they're performing.
Hands brushing over shared pencils,
heads tilting the same way when they talk,
silent signals that only they (or maybe only I) notice.
Sometimes I catch Kanade staring when Honami isn't looking,
and it's not just admiration or habit.
It's softer than that.
It's the kind of look you give someone
when their presence feels like a promise,
but you can't yet put the words to it.
And Honami- oh, Honami is the worst.
She's calm, careful, deliberate,
but I've seen her hesitate when Kanade frowns,
lean just a little closer when she sighs,
offer a hand without making a show of it.
I wonder if they even realize how obvious they are.
Or if they do, and it's just more fun to pretend not to.
I don't say anything.
I sit back and watch, smiling too much,
because watching them is easy.
It's like the world slowed down for a while,
and they're the only ones keeping time,
and I'm just lucky enough to see it happen.