Where Quiet Feels like Home

By the time time autumn settled over the University, Ethan no longer needed his phone to begin a conversation with Isha. His hands still were not perfect. Sometimes he signed too quickly. Sometimes he forgot a finger position or mixed up similar words. Bit he kept trying and somehow trying to mattered more than getting everything right.

Every Wednesday and Friday had quietly theirs. Sometimes they met beneath the old Banyan tree. Other days they escaped to the library where silence was not uncomfortable but expected. The librarian had ling stopped giving them curious looks. She simply smiled whenever the two appeared always choosing the same corner by the tall windows.

One rainy afternoon Isha opened her notebook and drew a tiny star. Then she looked at Ethan. Slowly she signed Star. He copied her movements. She nodded. Next came the rain. Then moon and hope. Hope was his favourite. The sign began never the heart bifire moving gently forward as though releasing something into the world. "It's lovely" he whispered before realising she could not hear him. She did not need to. His smile said enough.

Over the weeks their conversations grew larger. She taught him the signs for her favourite books, flowers, seasons and constellations. He taught her terribly jokes by acting then out dramatically until she laughed so hard that people in th library turned to stare.

She never apologised for laughing. Brother did he. Little by little, Ethan began noticing things no one else seemed to. Whenever she entered a room she lightly tapper the neared table before sitting down feeling the vibration to know if he responded.

She always chose seats where she could see everyone's face. She hated dim lighting because it made reading lives difficult. She absent mindedly twisted the silver ring in her finger wheneyshe was anxious.

None of these habits seemed unusual anymore. They simply became part of who she was. Without realising, Ethan changed too.

He stopped talking while turing waya. He never converted his mouth when speaking. If someone called his name while he was with Isha, he waited until she noticed before answering. He learned to walk in the side where she felt most comfortable using her cane. They were tiny adjustments. Almost invisible. Yet somehow they said, I see you.

One evening, while crossing the botanical garden after a sudden shower the pathway became slippery. "I have got it" Isha signed confidently. Ethan nodded.

He knew she disliked being fussed over. Halfway across she hesitated. Not because she could not continue. Because she was tired. Without saying anything Ethan simply held out his hand. No insistence. No pity. Just an offer. She looked at it for a long moment. Then quietly she placed her hand in his. Not because she needed saving.

But become trust she beginning to realise was another language entirely. They walked the rest of the path together beneath the scenet if wet earth and blooming jasmine . They stood talking withiving hands beneath the fading evening night smiling over stories that need not be said to be understood. Their conversation had ended several moments ago. And yet somehow...their hands were still intertwined