"Where are we going?" I asked.
"You said food," Ethan replied. "So food."
"That's not an answer."
"It's a lifestyle."
I rolled my eyes, but I didn't let go of his hand.
Funny how that happened.
We didn't even talk about it.
Our hands just… stayed together.
Like they already knew where they belonged.
The street was busy with evening life. Small shops closing. Street vendors shouting last prices. The smell of roasted corn and fried stuff filling the air.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
But inside me?
Nothing felt normal.
Because this was the first time in weeks that walking beside him didn't hurt.
It didn't feel heavy.
It felt… light.
Like my chest finally loosened.
"You're quiet," he said.
"I'm thinking."
"Dangerous."
"Shut up."
He bumped my shoulder playfully.
I tried not to smile.
Failed.
"I still can't believe you showed up like that," I said. "At my shop. Looking homeless."
"Wow. Homeless?"
"You looked stressed."
"I was stressed," he admitted. "I rehearsed this whole speech in the car."
I laughed. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. But when I saw you, everything disappeared. My brain just said 'don't lose her, idiot.'"
Why is he like this?
Why does he say things that go straight into my bloodstream?
"You're dramatic," I muttered.
"Says the girl who gave me an ultimatum and vanished for a week."
"…fair."
We stopped at a small roadside spot.
Plastic chairs. Old tables. Bright yellow lights.
Nothing fancy.
But the food smelled insane.
"Perfect," he said.
"You really brought me here?"
"You said you were still mad. You don't deserve restaurant treatment yet."
I gasped. "Excuse me?"
He laughed and pulled a chair out for me anyway.
Idiot.
Soft idiot.
We ordered too much food like always.
Noodles. Chicken. Fries. Two drinks we didn't need.
Same old us.
And for a while… we just ate.
Talking about random things.
My annoying cousin.
His terrible boss.
A movie we both hated.
Nothing serious.
No Lena.
No past.
No drama.
Just two people being stupid together.
And God…
I missed this.
I missed laughing without overthinking.
I missed looking at him without checking if something hurt.
At some point, I caught him staring at me.
"What?" I asked, mouth full.
He didn't look away.
"You're real, right?"
I frowned. "What kind of question is that?"
"I don't know," he said quietly. "This week felt like you disappeared from the world. Like I imagined you."
My chest tightened.
"I'm real," I said softly.
"Good. Because that week without you? Worst week of my life."
"Drama king."
"I'm serious."
I looked down at my plate to hide my smile.
Because if I looked at him too long, I might melt into the chair.
After we ate, we didn't rush home.
We just walked.
Slowly.
No destination.
Just walking.
The sky was dark now. Streetlights glowing orange. Music playing faintly from some nearby bar.
Our shoulders kept brushing.
Every small touch felt louder than it should.
Then suddenly, he stopped.
"What?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
Just stepped closer.
Too close.
My heart immediately went crazy.
"Ethan…"
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
Such a small thing.
But my brain shut down.
"You know something?" he said softly.
"What?"
"I almost called you like fifty times that first night."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because you said don't come looking for you."
His voice dropped.
"And for once… I wanted to respect what you asked for."
That hit harder than anything.
Because love isn't just chasing.
Sometimes it's staying back when someone needs space.
"I hated every second of it though," he added.
I smiled. "Good."
"Wicked girl."
"Deserved."
He laughed under his breath.
Then his eyes dropped to my lips for half a second.
And back up.
My heart almost stopped.
Oh.
Oh no.
Not this.
Not here.
Not in public.
Not when my brain is already weak.
"You're thinking too loud," he said.
"I'm not thinking anything."
"You are."
"Shut up."
Silence.
The air changed.
That soft, electric tension.
The kind where everything slows.
His hand slid into mine again.
Gentler this time.
Like he was scared I'd disappear if he held too tight.
"Mira," he said quietly.
"Hmm?"
"Can I try something?"
My heart: boom boom boom boom.
"…what?"
He leaned closer.
Slow enough for me to step back.
But I didn't.
Close enough that I could feel his breath.
"If you say no," he whispered, "I stop."
Why is consent hotter than everything else?
I hate this man.
"…okay," I breathed.
And then—
Soft.
Slow.
Careful.
His lips touched mine.
Not rushed.
Not hungry.
Just warm.
Like he was scared to break me.
Like he was asking, Is this okay?
And my brain went completely blank.
Because this wasn't fireworks.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was gentle.
Safe.
Home.
My fingers gripped his shirt slightly.
And he smiled against my lips.
Smiled.
Idiot.
When we pulled back, my face was probably red.
He looked just as affected though.
"Still on probation," I muttered.
He laughed softly. "Worth it."
And somehow…
Walking home with him beside me…
Hand in hand…
Streetlights above us…
It felt different.
Like the world wasn't so heavy anymore.
Like maybe…
Just maybe…
This could work.
But peace?
Peace never lasts long.
Because tomorrow…
Someone unexpected is about to show up.
And they know Ethan's name.
Very well.