Eventually

Chapter One

Elena POV

I step inside, praying the universe didn’t notice me tripping over my own feet outside.

Of course, Adrian’s there. Leaning casually against the counter like he owns the place. The guy is so stupidly perfect it physically hurts.

Lucas is sprawled on the couch, headphones on, pretending he’s not watching my life implode in front of him. Classic.

And there he is… Adrian. Just standing there, tall, broad, calm, smiling like he’s doing nothing at all. I swear, my heart is staging a full rebellion right now. I can’t stop staring. I shouldn’t be staring. But I am. Like a complete fool.

God, his arms. His chest. That stupidly manly posture that makes me want to melt into the floor.

I shake my head violently. No. Stop. Think. He’s ten years older. He’s my brother’s best friend. He probably has a girlfriend. He’s Adrian. He’s untouchable.

I brush it off, straightening my shoulders, pretending I’m cool. Totally normal. Totally unaffected.

But my brain? Laughing at me. You’re delusional, Elena. He’s never going to look at you like that. Never. Chill.

He smirks, probably sensing that I’m spiraling in my own head, and casually ruffles my hair. My brain immediately short-circuits. I can feel my face heating up, my heart hammering, my palms sweating. I want to disappear. Poof. Gone.

“Hey, Elena,” he says, super casual.

I choke on my own breath. “H-hi,” I squeak. Smooth. Professional. Totally normal human behavior. Not.

Lucas doesn’t even glance up from his game, muttering something about finally home. Thanks, Lucas. Totally needed that reminder that you’re living rent-free in my embarrassment.

I can feel Adrian watching me, casually, like it’s nothing. But I know it’s everything in my brain. And I hate it. And I love it. And oh God, I’m going to die.

I force myself to step away, grab a snack, anything to distract myself.

I tell myself: He’s impossible. He’s perfect. He’s ten years older. You’ll never be with him. Move on.

But my heart… doesn’t care.

I open the fridge like it personally offended me. There’s nothing interesting inside—just leftovers and juice I suddenly have no appetite for.

My brain? Still very much stuck on him.

Adrian’s talking to Lucas about something random—basketball, probably—but I’m barely hearing words. It’s just his voice. Deep, calm, smooth. Like, why does he sound like that? Why does he have to sound like comfort and chaos at the same time?

I sneak another glance. Big mistake.

He’s laughing at something Lucas said, head slightly tilted, his hand brushing through his hair—God, stop. Stop looking so good doing literally nothing.

My stomach does this weird flip thing, and I instantly look away, pretending the juice carton suddenly became the most interesting thing on Earth.

He treats me like a kid. Like his little sister. And maybe that should make it easier. It doesn’t.

If anything, it makes it worse. Because he’s kind. Because he remembers my favorite snacks. Because he opens doors, calls me kiddo with that annoying grin that shouldn’t make me melt but does.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like if he wasn’t Lucas’s best friend.

If I wasn’t sixteen.

If he wasn’t twenty-six.

If the universe wasn’t a complete joke.

Then reality slaps me—hard.

He’s out of my league, out of my reach, out of every possible timeline.

And yet… I still find myself stealing glances like an i***t.

“Earth to Elena,” Lucas’s voice snaps me out of my daydream.

“Huh?”

He smirks. “You’ve been holding that juice for like five minutes.”

“Oh.” I blink, realizing my fingers are going numb from gripping the cold carton. “Right. I was just… thinking.”

“About what?” Adrian asks.

And just like that, my heart stops.

Every cell in my body freezes.

“Nothing!” I blurt too fast, too loud, too suspicious.

He chuckles softly—like he knows it’s something dumb but doesn’t push. Of course he doesn’t. Adrian never pushes. He’s too chill. Too calm. Too… him.

He grabs his keys, saying something to Lucas about heading out in a bit, and my chest tightens.

I hate that I already miss him, and he hasn’t even left yet.

He looks at me briefly, gives that small, easy smile that makes my brain go static.

“See you later, kiddo.”

Kiddo.

Yeah. That’s all I’ll ever be.

I force a smile. “Bye.”

And as the door shuts behind him, I finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Lucas stretches and mutters, “You’re so weird sometimes.”

Yeah. Maybe I am. But it’s not my fault the universe decided to make Adrian exist.

I flop onto the couch like a human burrito, dragging my snack arsenal with me: chips, chocolate, maybe even that leftover slice of pizza from lunch. Calories don’t exist today.

Lucas is sprawled on the other side, headphones on, scrolling on his phone like he owns the world. “You really don’t hold back, do you?” he mutters.

I stuff another handful of chips in my mouth. “Excuse me? I’m cultivating a balanced snack ecosystem. It’s very scientific.”

He groans and rolls his eyes. “Balanced? You’ve got enough sugar to power a small country.”

“Details, details,” I say, flopping back into the couch cushions. “I’m stressed. It’s a survival mechanism.”

Lucas mutters something under his breath—probably about me being dramatic—and I pretend not to hear it. Typical. Classic.

I grab the remote and flip through channels, landing on a drama that’s way too relatable. My snacks are balanced precariously on my lap, and I sink into t he blanket, all cozy and self-indulgent.

Lucas sighs, clearly judging my chaos, but he doesn’t intervene. I don’t think he realizes I’ve already eaten half the kitchen. That’s the beauty of being the last-born. Mom and Dad totally spoil me, and I get away with far too much.

I munch, I groan at the drama on the screen, I mutter at plot twists, and the world continues spinning. Life is simple. Snacks. Drama. Blanket. Maybe a little chaos.

And I love it.