The restaurant's air still carried the faint perfume of wine, roasted herbs, and freshly baked bread, but Jason barely noticed any of it now. His eyes were on Elena—bright, restless, and impossibly full of warmth. They had been sitting close, leaning into each other like the whole world outside their table had dimmed away.
He leaned back a little, arms crossed in thought, then smirked. "You know, Sophie… my little sister… she's trouble."
Elena tilted her head, curious. "Trouble? You mean the sweet girl who sketches and paints? Mariana told me a little bit, but she left it vague. What's she really like?"
Jason rubbed his chin as if preparing for a performance. "She's a hurricane in disguise. You walk into the house, and the first thing you see is her drawings scattered all over the floor—she doesn't use paper like normal people. No. She uses the walls, the tables, the fridge door—anything with a surface. I've lost count of how many times I've had to scrub the walls before the landlord showed up."
Elena laughed immediately, leaning forward. "You're lying. Nobody actually draws on the fridge!"
"I swear," Jason raised his hand like he was making an oath. "Last week, I came home late, tired, covered in oil from fixing a truck. Guess what's waiting for me on the fridge? A drawing of me—but with a giant monkey's body and banana in my hand. She said, and I quote: 'This is what you look like when you get angry, Jason.'"
Elena clapped a hand over her mouth and burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking. "No! Don't tell me she actually said that—"
"She did." Jason sighed dramatically. "And you know what? I couldn't even be mad, because she was right. I really did look like a monkey yelling when the bolts weren't coming off."
Their laughter melted the quiet air around them. For a moment, Jason forgot about how heavy life often felt. With Elena smiling at him like that, even Sophie's mischievous pranks seemed like treasures.
"She's also… soft," Jason added, his voice lowering. "She'll act like she doesn't care, like she's too busy drawing or cooking one of her… questionable meals."
"Questionable?" Elena chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't let her near the kitchen unless you're ready for disaster. She once tried to cook noodles, but somehow managed to burn the water."
Elena blinked. "Burn… the water?"
Jason nodded, lips twitching. "Yeah. Don't even ask me how. To this day, it's one of the unsolved mysteries of my life."
They both laughed again, and Jason leaned on the table, softer this time. "But when she notices I'm tired, when I drag myself home from long hours at the workshop… she'll leave me a plate. Sometimes it's edible, sometimes it isn't. But she tries. That's Sophie. A menace and a blessing in one package."
Elena's eyes glimmered, her smile tender. She wasn't laughing now. She was listening—really listening—as if every piece of Jason's story painted a brighter, warmer picture in her heart.
"I'd love to meet her," Elena whispered. "She sounds amazing."
Jason hesitated. His protective instinct flared. "You will. Just… not yet. I don't want to throw her into the middle of everything too fast. She's my responsibility. She's my world."
"I understand," Elena said softly, her hand almost brushing his on the table. "But someday, Jason. Someday, I want her to know I'm not here to take her brother away—I'm here to add to her world."
Her words caught him off guard. For a mechanic who usually hid behind humor and stubborn pride, Jason suddenly felt seen. The weight in his chest loosened.
But before he could say more, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"There you two are," Mariana announced as she strolled back to the table. She looked perfectly unbothered, like someone who had just returned from casually checking her phone. Her eyes sparkled though—sharp, teasing. "I leave you alone for a little while, and now look at you. Bonding like childhood sweethearts."
Elena instantly sat up straighter, trying not to blush too obviously. Jason scratched the back of his neck and muttered, "You came back quick."
"Quick?" Mariana raised a brow. "I've been gone long enough for you to talk about Sophie, laugh loud enough to make half the restaurant stare, and…" she gave Elena a sly look, "…build a little connection that's making you both glow like lamps."
Elena looked away, embarrassed. Jason shot Mariana a deadpan glare, but Mariana only smirked and slid into her seat again.
"Anyway," Mariana continued, her tone shifting, "it's time to go. Father's back in town. He'll want to see us tonight."
Elena nodded reluctantly, while Jason's smile faded into a more neutral mask. The moment had ended. Their private bubble had been popped.
"Already?" Jason asked, a little too quickly.
"Already," Mariana confirmed, standing. "Don't worry. This isn't goodbye. You'll see her again."
Jason rose from his seat, pushing his chair back. Elena followed, though she lingered for a second longer, her eyes still on him. It was almost like she didn't want to break the connection just yet.
They walked out together, past glittering chandeliers and silent, curious gazes of wealthy patrons. At the entrance, a Rolls Royce Phantom was already waiting. The chauffeur opened the door, polished shoes shining against the marble floor.
Jason wasn't surprised. Mariana always had a car ready. He only gave a small shrug.
The ride was quiet at first. Jason sat back, arms crossed, staring out the window. Elena's eyes kept drifting toward him, soft and reluctant. Mariana tapped on her phone, pretending not to notice the tension but smirking to herself.
When they finally reached his workshop, the car slowed. The chauffeur stepped out and opened the door. Jason looked back at Elena.
"I'll come by tomorrow," he said, keeping his voice calm. "With the Ferrari. Guess it'll give me an excuse."
Elena's face lit up, even though she tried to play it cool. "I'll be waiting."
Mariana chuckled under her breath, "Hopeless."
Jason stepped out, hands in his pockets, and watched as the Rolls Royce pulled away into the night. Its taillights faded like a dream slipping out of reach.
For a long moment, he just stood there in front of the workshop, the air smelling faintly of grease and gasoline. He rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled.
"What the hell just happened?" he muttered to himself.
He wasn't sure. But whatever it was, it felt like his world had just shifted in a way he couldn't ignore.