It’s okay.

She gives a smile.

Yeah I’m fine.

A little laugh.

It’s nothing really.

She turns away.

Please stop asking if I’m fine.

She’s calm.

Collected.

“What’s wrong?”

STOP.

He knows she’s ready to break.

She shakes it off.

That’s when he knows.

She wants to cry, she wants to scream.

He’s almost relieved.

She’s not okay.

It’s like there was a relief in feeling the storms approach.

The tears come in.

“What’s wrong?”

It’s not okay.

She’s not okay.