The house was quiet when they stepped inside — too quiet.
No sound of cooking, no laughter from the living room, not even the faint hum of a television.
Aria set her bag down carefully. "So… your parents really went to that wedding?"
Ethan nodded, kicking off his shoes. "Yeah. They'll be back late tonight."
Aria hesitated for a moment, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Then… it's just us here?"
"Looks like it."
The words hung in the air for a moment, heavier than either expected.
Ethan cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. "You hungry? I can make something."
She smiled faintly. "You? Cook?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You sound surprised."
"Well…" She giggled softly. "I just can't imagine you in the kitchen."
He smirked. "Then you're about to witness something historic."
---
They moved into the kitchen together. The warm orange glow of the evening sun streamed through the windows, painting everything in gold.
Ethan rolled up his sleeves while Aria leaned against the counter, watching him.
"Do you even know how to use that?" she asked when he picked up a frying pan.
He gave her a mock glare. "Of course. I'm not completely hopeless."
She laughed — the sound soft and musical, filling the empty space around them.
He couldn't help but smile. It was strange — a few months ago, he wouldn't have cared if someone laughed or not. But her laughter? It did something to him.
---
They decided on something simple: pasta.
Ethan cooked while Aria handed him ingredients, occasionally teasing him when he looked too serious.
At one point, she tried to reach the spice jar from the top shelf, standing on her toes. "Got it— oh!"
Her fingers barely brushed it before the jar slipped. Ethan moved without thinking, catching it just before it hit the counter — his other hand steadying her waist.
For a heartbeat, everything stopped.
Aria froze, her breath catching as she looked up. His hand was warm against her waist; his face close enough that she could see the tiny flecks of silver in his blue eyes.
Neither spoke.
The only sound was the ticking of the kitchen clock and their uneven breathing.
Then she realized — her heart was racing.
Ethan seemed to realize it too because he quickly stepped back, clearing his throat. "You should… be more careful."
"Y-yeah," she said softly, her cheeks burning. "Thanks."
He turned back to the stove, pretending to focus on the pasta, but his mind wasn't on it anymore.
---
When dinner was ready, they sat across from each other at the small table.
"It's not bad," Aria said after her first bite.
He looked at her skeptically. "You sound surprised again."
She laughed, the sound making his lips curve. "I mean, it's actually really good, Ethan."
He gave a half-smile. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment."
They ate in comfortable silence for a while — though the air between them still carried that strange, unspoken tension. Every time their eyes met, Aria looked away too quickly. Every time her hand brushed his while reaching for water, his pulse skipped.
---
After dinner, they moved to the living room. The soft sound of rain began tapping against the windows, filling the silence.
Aria sat on the couch, hugging a cushion, while Ethan leaned back on the opposite end.
For a few moments, they just listened to the rain.
Then suddenly — the lights flickered.
And went out.
A small gasp escaped Aria's lips. "Oh no…"
Ethan sighed, standing up. "Power cut again. I'll go check the fuse."
He was halfway to the hallway when he heard her soft voice behind him. "Ethan… can you stay? Just for a bit?"
He stopped, turning toward her. Even in the dim light, he could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
He walked back slowly, sitting down beside her. "Better?"
She nodded, her hands still gripping the cushion.
He chuckled softly. "You're scared of the dark, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little," she admitted.
He leaned back, his tone lighter now. "Don't worry. I'm here. No ghosts or monsters will touch you."
She smiled at that — a tiny, relieved smile.
Outside, the rain grew heavier. The thunder rolled softly in the distance.
Without realizing it, they had inched closer on the couch. Their shoulders brushed. Neither moved away.
For a long moment, they just sat there — listening to the storm, feeling the warmth between them.
Aria glanced up at him, her heart fluttering when she saw how calm he looked, how his eyes softened when they met hers.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For being there today. For… always showing up when I need you."
Ethan's expression shifted slightly — something gentle, almost vulnerable.
He hesitated, then said quietly, "I'll always show up, Aria."
Her breath caught again.
They stayed like that, eyes locked — the world outside fading away.
And for the first time, it wasn't awkward silence between them.
It was connection.
A quiet promise neither of them said out loud, but both of them felt.