Part 17: Cracks in the Facade...

Markell had noticed it for a while now — the change in Raylynn's demeanor, the way her laughter seemed forced, and the light in her eyes dimmed. She was still the strong and determined Raylynn he admired, but something was off.

He caught glimpse of her distant stares, the moments when she seemed lost in her own world, weighed down by thoughts she wouldn't share with anyone.

After their hangout at the another spot, Le Jardin, Markell had tried to get a read on her from Paige and Zephaniah. He approached them in the dining hall one afternoon, his expression serious. "Is Raylynn okay?" he asked, concern lacking his voice.

Paige and Zephaniah exchanged glances, an unspoken agreement passing between them. Paige sighed, shaking her head slightly. "She's dealing with a lot, but it's not really our place to talk about it."

Zephaniah nodded in agreement, adding, "Just... be there for her, man. She's going through some stuff."

Markell wasn't satisfied with the vague answers, but he respected their loyalty. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Raylynn was struggling more than she let on. He wanted to help, to be a friend she could lea on, even if she insisted on keeping her walls up.

That's why he decided to invite her to a study session for Biochem. It wasn't anything formal — just a quiet corner in the library with their textbooks, notes, and a pile of snacks he'd brought along. 

Raylynn was hesitant at first but eventually agreed, and they settled into the routine of reviewing chapters and quizzing each other on molecular structures.

Their session was going well; Markell made sure to keep things light, cracking jokes and making casual conversation that seemed to ease Raylynn's tension. He could see her relax a little, her smile more genuine than he'd seen in weeks. He even offered her some of the snacks he brought along — her favorite trail mix and a couple of chocolate bars.

As they worked through a particularly challenging problem, Markell noticed her pause, her pen hovering over her notebook. She stared at the page, her mind clearly elsewhere. He watched her for a moment, debating whether to say something. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Raylynn blinked, snapping back to reality. She glanced at Markell, her expression guarded. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her tone flat and unconvincing.

He wasn't buying it. "Raylynn, you don't have to put on an act. If something's bothering you, you can talk to me."

She stiffened, her shoulders tensing as she tried to brush him off. "It's nothing, Markell. Just drop it."

But he wasn't deterred. "You know, sometimes it helps to get things off your chest," he said gently. "I'm not here to judge or anything. I just want to help."

Raylynn's grip tightened on her pen, her knuckles turning white. She could feel the cracks in her facade widening, the weight of her emotions pressing against the thin walls she'd built. She'd been holding it all in for so long —the pain, the pressure, the fear — and now it was threatening to spill over. 

"Just leave it alone, okay?" she snapped, her voice rising as she shoved her notebook aside. "It's none of your business!"

Markell was taken aback by her outburst, but he didn't back down. He saw the tears welling up in her eyes, the frustration and hurt she was desperately trying to hide. "Raylynn —"

"No, Markell!" She cut him off, her voice breaking. "You don't get it. You can't just... you can't just fix this." Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her struggles. 

She pushed her chair back abruptly, standing up and turning away from him. The tears she'd fought so hard to hold back finally broke free, sliding down her cheeks. Markell stood as well, his expression softening as he watched her crumble.

"Raylynn, I'm sorry," he said quietly, stepping closer. "I'm not trying to fix anything. I just... I want you to know that you're not alone. Whatever it is, you don't have to go through it by yourself."

Raylynn didn't respond immediately, her back still turned as she tried to compose herself. She was angry — angry at herself for letting her guard down, angry at Markell for seeing through her, angry at the world for piling so much on her shoulders. But more than that, she was exhausted. Exhausted from pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her breaths shaky. "I don't need your pity, Markell."

"It's not pity," he said softly. "It's care. And if you need a shoulder to lean on, I'm here."

Raylynn turned to face him, her expression conflicted. Part of her wanted to push him away, to retreat back into the safety of her solitude. But another part of her — a small, fragile part —wanted to believe him. To believe that someone cared enough to stick around even when things got tough.

Markell took a tentative step forward, opening his arms in a gently invitation. "It's okay," he whispered.

For a moment, Raylynn hesitated, the walls around her heart wavering. Then, finally, she let out a shuddering breath and stepped into his embrace. The tears came harder then, her sobs muffled against his chest as she clung to him, the weight of her burdens pouring out in a torrent of raw emotion. 

Markell held her close, his touch gentle and reassuring. He didn't say anything —he didn't need to. He simply let her cry, offering her the quiet comfort of his presence as she let go of the pain she'd been carrying alone for so long.

After a while, Raylynn pulled back, wiping her eyes and taking a deep, shaky breath. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Markell smiled softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "Anytime. And hey, if you ever need a break, or someone to talk to, or even just more snacks —" he gestured to the half-eaten pile of treats, " —I'm your guy."

Raylynn managed a small, genuine smile, her heart feeling just a little lighter. "Thanks, Markell. But for now... let's get back to studying. I've got a biochem exame to ace. "

He chuckled, nodding. "You got it. Just remember  —one step at a time."

They returned to their books, the atmosphere lighter but still tinged with the unspoken understanding of what had just transpired. Markell kept a careful eye on Raylynn, ready to step in if she needed him, but respecting her space all the same.

When their session finally wrapped up, Markell offered to walk Raylynn back to her dorm, but she declined, saying she needed some time alone. He didn't push, only nodding and watching as she gathered her things.

"Take care, Ray. I'm always here if you need me," he said as they parted ways. 

Raylynn nodded, offering him a small wave before turning and heading in the opposite direction. As she walked her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her brows furrowing at the unknown number on the screen.

Without thinking, she answered, but there was no response not the other end—just the faint sound of breathing, as if someone was there but couldn't find the words to speak. She hung up, her heart pounding with unease. A moment later, a text came through.

"We need to talk. Mardi Gras break is coming. Meet me. It's important."

Raylynn stared at the message, her breath hitching as a chill ran down her spine. She knew exactly who it was from, even without a name attached. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of what was to come settled heavily on her shoulders once more.

Mardi Gras break was near, and with it, the promise of a conversation she wasn't sure she was ready to have. But for now, all she could do was tuck her phone away and keep moving forward, one step at a time. 

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