Chapter 4
889 Words
Chapter Four: Too Close
Monday – 7:45 PM
Julien’s Apartment
Stella hadn’t intended to dress up. Not really.
It was just a black turtleneck and jeans. Minimal makeup. A little mascara. A hint of lip gloss.
Still, when Julien opened the door, he did a double take.
“Wow,” he said.
She raised a brow. “Wow what?”
He blinked, then smirked. “Wow, you’re early. I was going to clean. You ruined the plan.”
Stella rolled her eyes and stepped inside. “Liar.”
Julien’s apartment was... alarmingly neat. Dim warm lighting, a record playing something jazzy and low, a half-finished pizza box on the counter. It looked like a catalog for moody bachelor living.
She dropped her bag on the couch and eyed him as he padded into the kitchen. He wore a soft, dark gray Henley and jeans that fit too well.
Annoying how good he looked. Even more annoying that she noticed.
“You got the right toppings this time?” she asked, peering into the pizza box.
“No olives. I know how passionate you are about vegetable discrimination.”
“You mean taste.”
Julien poured two glasses of sparkling water—because they both had oral arguments to rehearse tomorrow—and joined her on the couch.
They ate in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder, flipping through note cards and adjusting sections of their mock trial speech.
For the first time, they worked like a team. No snide remarks. No eye rolls. Just… rhythm.
It was unsettling.
8:22 PM
Stella leaned back, head resting against the couch, the last bite of pizza abandoned on her plate.
Julien was reading her revised conclusion aloud, voice low and smooth.
“You really think it’s too sentimental?” she asked, eyes half-closed.
He nodded. “A little. You said ‘justice is not only blind but must be brave.’ Sounds like a campaign slogan.”
“Fine.” She grabbed the card from his hand and crossed it out. “Bravery is canceled.”
Julien chuckled. “That line was very you, though. Passionate. Righteous.”
“Do you have to make everything sound like a compliment wrapped in a threat?”
He leaned slightly closer. “Do you have to make everything sound like a warning?”
Their eyes met, the silence stretching between them.
And suddenly, she realized how close they were.
His knee brushed hers. His breath was warm, his lips slightly parted. The record in the background slowed into something rich and smooth—sinful, almost.
Julien’s hand twitched on the couch, like he wasn’t sure whether to move it toward her or away.
Stella’s pulse hammered in her ears.
“We should... go over the objections again,” she said quietly.
But neither of them moved.
“I have a question,” Julien said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What?”
“Why do you hate me?”
Stella blinked. “I—what?”
Julien didn’t look away. “You say I’m arrogant, annoying, too relaxed. But none of that explains why you hated me the second we met.”
She swallowed, throat dry. “Because you walk into every room like you own it. Like you expect the world to bend to you.”
“And that’s enough to hate me?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I think I hated how you made everything look easy. While I was drowning, you were floating. Effortlessly.”
His smile faded.
“I’m not floating, Stella,” he said, softer now. “I’ve been paddling like hell under the surface for years.”
She didn’t know what possessed her to reach out—but she did.
Her fingers brushed his. Just briefly. But it was enough to send a shiver up her arm.
Julien looked down at their hands, then back at her.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said. “When I met you, I thought you were all ice and fire. Cold logic and hot temper.”
“And now?”
He hesitated. Then: “Now I think you’re trying to keep people out because you’ve been let down one too many times.”
Stella’s chest tightened. She wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come.
He leaned in. “You don’t have to fight me, Stella.”
“I’m not,” she whispered. “I’m just... not sure what we are anymore.”
Julien’s lips were inches from hers. “We don’t have to name it. Not tonight.”
But then, mercifully—or maybe tragically—his phone buzzed.
Loud. Jarring. Breaking the spell.
He cursed softly and checked it. “Group chat. Professor Renaud moved our oral exam to Thursday.”
Stella sat back, heart still racing. “We’re running out of time.”
He didn’t respond.
Because time was no longer what they were worried about.
11:12 PM
Stella’s Apartment
She paced for an hour after getting home.
Why did he have to look at her like that? Say those things?
Why did it feel like everything had shifted—and she couldn’t unfeel it?
Julien Astor had always been a problem.
But now, he was something far more dangerous: a possibility.
And she didn’t know whether that thrilled her…
Or terrified her.
- Writer
