The compound hummed with voices and laughter—an event in full swing. Rubi hadn’t planned on leaving Aurelia’s side tonight, especially knowing how overwhelming these gatherings could be. But Aurelia had insisted on coming, steady and brave, despite how exhausting socializing could be.

Rubi watched closely, her empathic abilities picking up every shift in Aurelia’s emotional state before Aurelia even registered it herself: the way Aurelia’s eyes darted when conversations shifted too quickly, how fingers fidgeted with the hem of a shirt, the silent effort to fit in by masking what felt natural. Autism was part of Aurelia—a beautiful, vital part that Rubi loved deeply—and she knew the toll events like this could take.

Near the drinks table, a well-meaning guest smiled at Aurelia and said cheerfully, “Well, you know what they say—that’s just the way the cookie crumbles!”

Aurelia froze, confusion flickering across her face as she tried to process the idiom.

Without hesitation, Rubi stepped closer, her Sokovian accent soft and warm as she leaned in.

“It means sometimes things don’t go as planned, and that’s okay, dorogoy,” Rubi explained gently. “You don’t have to pretend to understand if you don’t.”

Aurelia’s shoulders relaxed slightly, the weight of confusion easing. Rubi’s hand found the small of Aurelia’s back—a quiet promise, a steady anchor in the chaos. Red magic flickered barely visibly at her fingertips, instinctively reaching out to offer comfort.

No grand speeches. No forced smiles. Just the quiet strength of someone who sees, understands, and protects.

“Let’s get some of those little sandwiches, yes?” Rubi said with a small, knowing smile, gently taking Aurelia’s hand in hers. “And if it gets to be too much, we can always slip away. No one will notice if we disappear for a bit.”