Chapter 16 Art time (2)
Then she looked at Felix.
Still at his desk. Still watching.
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He hadn’t moved an inch since circle time started. His arms were crossed over his chest, lips pressed into a silent frown, eyes burning softly with that familiar, unreadable fire. He wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t throwing a tantrum. He was simply... not participating.
And yet, Alina knew he was listening.
She could feel it in the way his gaze followed the others, the way his foot tapped just slightly, like some part of him wanted to be included, but another part refused to ask for it.
She didn’t call his name like she did with the others. She didn’t clap or coax loudly or pretend she hadn’t noticed.
No.
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Alina walked over to his desk.
Quietly. Calmly. Like she was walking into a sacred space.
She crouched beside him, folding her skirt under her knees, placing her hand gently on the edge of his desk without touching him.
He didn’t look at her, but his jaw clenched slightly.
"Sweetheart," she said softly, her voice like warm tea on a rainy day, "You don’t have to join the circle if you don’t want to. But I wanted to ask you myself. Because I noticed you."