I thundered down the stairs, faster than before. The sound echoed off the walls, a reminder of just how late I was running. My hair still clung damply to my neck from the rushed shower, and my shirt clung in the wrong places ; the aftermath of taking way too long to get ready.
"Where are you off to?" Camilla called, stepping out from the kitchen, a mug in hand.
Before I could answer, Cora appeared behind her, grin already locked in place. "I told you" nudging Camilla on her shoulders " a date with Kenan today."
I glanced at the clock. "You guys saw the shoes I was wearing last time, right? I left them by the stand."
"You're looking real pretty, Ciro." Camilla teased.
Helpless. The both of them.
"I told you," Cora singed out, "Look — his face is red."
"That's from me running," I snapped back, crouching to search the shoe rack.
When I finally spotted my shoes, I shoved them on, grabbed my bag, and waved them off without so much as a backward glance.Their voices chased me to the door.
"Say hi to my brother-in—"
Bang. Door slammed. Blessed silence.
By the time I got to the café, I'd already apologized twice to the driver for making him wait. My legs carried me two steps at a time up the narrow staircase. I hate being late ; the gnawing in my stomach was worse than hunger.
I scanned the room, letting my gaze sweep over strangers' faces until there.The familiar slope of his shoulders.
When I was just a few steps away, Kenan finally looked up."I thought I was going to be stood up."
On second thought, maybe he should have been.
"I was only ten minutes late," I muttered, sliding into the chair.
Silence. He didn't move, didn't speak.Was there something on my face? If there was, I knew he'd never point it out.
"You want something?" he asked.
"No, I don't—" The words died halfway up my throat. The knot in my stomach spoke for me. "Actually, yeah. I do."
He stood and left without another word.
I ordered just one thing, confident he'd know exactly what it was. It wasn't our first time here, and Kenan wasn't the type to forget small details.
While I waited, my gaze wandered around the café. It was a pocket of life in the city—mugs clinking, spoons stirring, voices overlapping into a warm hum. The smell of roasted coffee beans sat heavy in the air, curling into my nose until it almost felt like I could taste it.
When my eyes found him again, I noticed something off. No black today. Kenan had traded his shadow-colored wardrobe for a soft, slate-blue shirt. It threw me for a second—like seeing the ocean where there was always asphalt.
He returned with my order, setting the cup down before nudging it toward me."You're not getting anything for yourself?" I asked.
He shrugged, casual. "Not really feeling anything."
I wrapped my hands around the mug, letting the heat seep into my fingers. We fell into silence. Not sharp, uncomfortable silence—more like the quiet hum after a long day. Awkward, yes… but oddly grounding.
And confusing.
"So… how are you feeling?" he asked.
I glanced up from my drink. "I'm okay. You?"
"Normal."
A humorless smile tugged at my lips. There's no such thing as normal.
"So, you called me here just to check on me? What a gentleman."
"No. I've been reading about this attachment we have. There's not much info—it's rare."
"Yeah, I figured."
"It's not like a bond. You can't break it with a mark, because… there isn't one."
My stomach gave a small twist. "So?"
"I read that it fades over time… "
I arched a brow. "We see each other every day at university. Isn't that close enough?"
"You make it sound easy, Ciro."
God, I hate the way he says my name.
"Then what exactly are you suggesting, Kenan?"
He didn't blink, didn't waver. "Move in with me."
My brain tripped over itself. Of all people… from him? To me?"What?"
He leaned back slightly, unbothered. "We're both already feeling the withdrawals. If we stay apart too long, it's going to get worse. Living together… it's the only way to make it bearable."
I searched his face for the smirk, the teasing edge, the tell that this was a joke. Nothing. Just him, waiting.
"Can I… think about it first?" My voice came out softer than I intended.
Kenan nodded, folding his hands like he hadn't just lit my brain on fire.
"How's your project coming along?" he asked suddenly.
"I don't know. The professor hasn't responded yet."
"Need my help?"
I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling, biting back a sigh. Of course I do, you jerk.
"Yes, I need it. Leone hasn't replied, and it's due next week."
Or I can kiss my graduation goodbye.
I should've just been an intern and saved this for semester two.
"You can help, but all my materials are at home," I said.
"The university's closed, so you can't access your room?"
"Exactly."
"When are you free?" I asked.
"I have this weekend off. I can help then."
By help, he meant providing his body.
"Okay, sure."
The conversation stretched for another hour, drifting into small talk that only half-registered.
When we finally stepped outside, the evening air bit at my cheeks.
"So, where are you off to?" he asked.
"Home."
"Let me drop you off."
I gave a small nod, and we fell into step. The street around us was alive with movement—traffic lights flickering, heels clicking, laughter tumbling out of a bar door. Our pheromones, that faint electric pull between us, threaded through the air like static.
"How far is your car parked?" I asked.
"Right around the corner. Have some patience."
Soon, we reached it. He opened the door for me without a word, and I slid inside.
The drive was silent, but my head wasn't. His words kept looping: Move in with me.
If it could help weaken the attachment… maybe it was worth trying.
After Kenan dropped me off, I went straight to the bag I'd brought along. Inside was my sketchbook—my original designs still crisp on the page. I didn't need a new idea; the first one was good enough.
I flipped through, double-checking each detail, mentally cataloging what I still needed to order.
When I shut the book, my mind drifted again—back to his voice from two nights ago. Move in with me.
Thinking about it was the problem.
I cleaned up the tornado I'd made earlier getting ready, then let the day fade into sleep.
Two days passed in a blur of errands and gathering supplies. At one point, I almost messaged Jacob for help… but then reminded myself why Kenan was coming in the first place.
All I needed were his measurements, and I could start.
The weekend came faster than expected. My room was ready—small but with enough space for the work. It still smelled faintly of dust from the summer, despite my efforts and the cleaner's.
I texted Kenan a time. I probably should've started earlier, but the evening felt easier.
I settled into the living room, scrolling idly on my phone until the couch dipped beside me.
I didn't even have to look up. "Cora."
"So, my brother-in-law's coming today?" she asked, voice dripping mischief.
I rolled my eyes. "I don't know what fantasy you're living in, but he's not—"
She cut me off. "I thought you'd dress up if your boyfriend's coming."
"Why? He's not someone to impress," I said, keeping my tone flat.
She grinned. "Funny, you didn't exactly deny he's your boyfriend."
"My dear sister, your words enter my right ear and exit the left."
Before she could retort, the housekeeper appeared to announce someone's arrival.
I rose and headed for the door.
"Welcome to my humble abode," I said as I opened it.
Kenan stood there, eyes scanning me head to toe.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked.
"It's nothing—"
"I said the same thing. He looks homeless, right?" Cora's voice chimed from behind me as she emerged to greet him.
Kenan gave her a small wave.
I glanced down at my oversized T-shirt and three-quarter pants. Perfectly fine.
"Are you two teaming up against me?" I asked, holding the door wider for him.
"Whatever. Cora, don't you have something to do?" I said with a pointed smile.
"Yes, of course. Let me leave you two lovebirds alone," she teased, disappearing back into the living room.
I met Kenan's gaze, then motioned for him to follow me upstairs.