Marie stood in front of Yasmine, her heart hammering in her chest as her thoughts spiraled. Every step had brought her here, to this moment—standing face to face with the person who had once been her everything. But the girl before her was a stranger. Yasmine looked nothing like the bright, vibrant friend she had once known. Her face was gaunt, her eyes hollow, as if she hadn't slept in weeks, and every movement she made seemed heavy, burdened by something far too painful to name. The girl Marie had always relied on, the one who had always shared her joy and sorrow, now stood before her, distant, closed off, a ghost of her former self.

The silence between them felt suffocating. The space that had once been filled with laughter and shared moments was now an abyss, echoing with unspoken words. Yasmine was still avoiding her gaze, looking anywhere but at Marie, as though every glance would unravel something she wasn't ready to face.

Marie's throat tightened. Every instinct told her to give up, to leave, but she couldn't. Not this time. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall—not when Yasmine needed her. She stepped forward, her breath shallow, her fingers trembling as they reached for Yasmine's arm.

"Yasmine, please... listen to me," Marie's voice broke as she spoke, raw and desperate, but still laced with a strength that only came from love. "You don't have to do this alone. I know it feels like you're drowning, like the world is closing in on you, but you're not alone in this. I'm here."

Yasmine's eyes flickered—something fleeting there, something buried deep. Fear? Guilt? Or perhaps the heavy burden of shame she refused to speak? But whatever it was, it was too much for her to confront. With a sharp jerk, she looked away, her posture stiffening as she spoke in a low, flat voice. "I'm fine," she muttered, her words almost mechanical, as if she believed it enough to make it true.

Marie's heart shattered at the lie. She knew Yasmine better than anyone, knew how much she was hiding behind that façade of indifference. How much pain she was burying.

"No," Marie said, her voice quieter but firm. Her grip on Yasmine's arm tightened, pulling her closer, forcing her to face the truth. "You're not fine, Yasmine. I've seen it. I've felt it. You can't keep pretending that you're okay, because you're breaking, and it's killing me to watch you do this to yourself." Her voice trembled with the weight of the words, but she didn't let go. Not this time. "You don't have to push me away. We're friends, remember? I'm here for you, always. And I won't leave you."

Yasmine recoiled, like a person burned. Her eyes snapped with something sharp—fear, frustration, a coldness that Marie had never seen before. It was as if the dam had cracked, letting something raw, jagged, spill out. She turned her head, avoiding Marie's gaze, and Marie could feel the walls Yasmine had spent so long building, brick by brick, coming back up again.

"I don't need help," Yasmine said, her voice thick with defensiveness. "I'm fine. I've handled everything before, I can handle this. I don't need anyone's pity." The words stung, and they cut through Marie like glass, but she held on. She couldn't let Yasmine retreat into her shell, couldn't let her drown alone in the silence she was so desperately trying to create.

Marie's chest tightened with the rising fear of losing her again. She thought of the days, the hours, the phone calls unanswered. How long had Yasmine been suffering in silence? Too long.

"Yasmine, please." Her voice was almost a whisper now, a tremble of emotion escaping her. "You don't have to carry this weight by yourself. You don't have to pretend to be strong. I see you. All of you. The broken parts, the scared parts. And I'm not going anywhere."

Yasmine flinched, her entire body shaking with the weight of the words. For a long moment, she was still, her eyes searching Marie's face, her breath shaky, as if she were standing on the edge of something—something so deep and terrifying she couldn't face it. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating, until Marie thought she might suffocate with it. She took a step closer, her voice breaking as she said, "I won't give up on you, Yasmine. I can't."

The tears Marie had been holding back for so long finally broke free, spilling down her cheeks. She wasn't afraid to show Yasmine how much she cared anymore. Not when everything else was falling apart. "Please, let me help you," she whispered, her hands trembling as she reached for Yasmine, her fingers brushing her wrist in a tentative touch, as if afraid she might shatter her like glass. "You don't have to have all the answers. You don't need to fix everything. You just need to take the first step."

Yasmine was silent. Her face was unreadable. For what felt like an eternity, the world around them seemed to stop. Marie held her breath, waiting for something—anything. But there was nothing. Nothing but the broken pieces between them.

And then, finally, almost imperceptibly, Yasmine's shoulders sagged, and she let out a soft, shuddering breath. "I don't know if I can," she whispered, her voice cracking with vulnerability. "I'm scared, Marie. I'm so scared. I don't know how to fix this... or if I even can."

Marie felt her heart break all over again. She pulled Yasmine into her arms without a second thought, her grip firm and desperate. She held her close, feeling the tension seep away, replaced with something fragile—something raw. "You don't have to fix everything, Yasmine. You don't have to have all the answers. You just need to take the first step. And I'll be with you. You're not alone."

Yasmine stiffened at first, as if unsure whether to trust Marie's words, but then, slowly, hesitantly, she relaxed, her body leaning into the embrace. Marie felt her breath against her neck, quiet, shaky. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Marie could feel a sliver of hope—the smallest flicker of something soft and real.

"Okay..." Yasmine whispered, her voice barely audible. "Okay..."

Marie closed her eyes, holding onto the moment, afraid that if she let go, it would all fall apart again. But for now, this was enough. Yasmine had taken the first step. And that was all they needed—for now.