stepped

As soon as Miss Silvia stepped out. 

The silence broke.

Chairs scraped, books closed, whispers resumed—hushed, confused, too careful, like the class was afraid to breathe too loudly.

Lor didn't move, his hazel eyes scanning the swirl of half-glances and unspoken things.

Something had changed—not just Silvia, but everyone.

The air felt heavy, charged with a mystery he couldn't grasp.

He leaned forward, tapping his fingers against his desk, then reached out to tap the shoulder of the blonde girl in front of him—plain uniform, quiet demeanor, her pig tails tied tightly.

"Hey," he said softly, voice low, probing. "What's going on?"

She blinked, turning slowly, her eyes wide but guarded.

Then, without a word, she stood, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked out, not even glancing back, like he hadn't spoken.

Lor's eyes narrowed, a spark of frustration flaring in his chest.