Chapter 10
886 Words
Aria’s POV
The silence after the kiss wasn't awkward—it was peaceful. Warm. Like curling up under a blanket with a hot drink while the rain tapped against the windows. His forehead rested lightly against mine, and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine, syncing with my breath.
For a few seconds, we just... existed.
And it was enough.
“Your ankle still hurting?” he asked quietly, his fingers still gently holding the makeshift ice pack.
“Only a little,” I replied. “It’ll be fine. Not the first time I’ve walked straight into solid furniture.”
He chuckled. “You know, you’re dangerously cute when you’re clumsy.”
“Dangerously cute?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Mm-hmm,” he said, that smirk reappearing. “The kind of cute that makes a guy want to wrap you in bubble wrap so the world can’t hurt you.”
“You’d suffocate me in five minutes.”
“Yeah, but you’d be safe,” he grinned.
I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t argue. Not when he looked at me like that—like I was made of galaxies and sunlight, like I was something rare and worthy.
Not when no one had ever looked at me like that before.
He shifted, setting the ice down on the side table, and stood. “You hungry?”
“Actually, yeah,” I said, surprised. “I forgot to eat lunch.”
“Then it’s a good thing I stopped at that organic café on the way here. They make these weird vegan sandwiches that taste better than they sound.”
I blinked. “You brought me food?”
“Well, I was planning to leave it at your door like a mysterious, thoughtful stalker, but then we had our little moment with the ice, and here we are.”
“You’re such a nerd.”
“Only for you, Koneko.”
I nearly choked on air. “You remembered that?”
“I remember everything you say,” he replied casually, walking into the kitchen and rummaging through the paper bags he brought.
“Even the random ones. Like how you said you prefer stars over sunsets because stars feel like promises, and sunsets feel like endings.”
I stared at him, stunned. “That was, like, a week ago. I barely remember saying that.”
“I don’t forget important things.”
And somehow, that sentence alone made my heart do a double somersault.
He returned with two wrapped sandwiches and handed me one. We sat side-by-side on the small couch, our shoulders brushing.
I unwrapped mine. Avocado, grilled mushrooms, red pepper hummus, and spinach. I took a bite.
“Okay, this is actually amazing.”
“Told you.”
“You’re full of surprises, Xander.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “You haven’t even scratched the surface.”
We ate quietly for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt natural. Like we’d done this a hundred times before. Like this was some future memory replaying itself for the first time.
But of course, the universe couldn’t leave me in peace for too long.
My phone buzzed against the table.
I glanced at the screen and froze.
Unknown Number: “We know where you are. Stop digging.”
My heart stuttered.
“What’s wrong?” Xander asked, noticing the change in my expression.
“Nothing. Just—spam,” I said quickly, locking the phone and placing it screen-down.
He didn’t look convinced. “Spam? You sure?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah. You know, those fake credit card scams or whatever. Nothing serious.”
But I couldn’t lie to myself. That message—it wasn’t random. It was specific.
We know where you are.
I hadn’t told anyone in this timeline anything about what I’d been researching. About the files I’d found buried in the Department of
Defense archives. About the timeline anomalies. About the reason I was here in the first place.
I shivered.
“Aria?” Xander’s voice was soft now. “Hey. Talk to me.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Then I shook my head. “It’s fine, really. I just... I get a little anxious sometimes.”
He didn’t believe me.
But he didn’t press.
Instead, he reached over and gently took my hand, his thumb brushing soft, calming circles against my skin.
“You don’t have to say anything until you’re ready. I just want you to know... I’ve got your back. No matter what.”
And just like that, my breath hitched again—not from panic, but from how steady his voice sounded.
He meant it.
And the terrifying part? I wanted to believe him.
I turned to look at him fully.
His green eyes met mine. No judgment. No pressure. Just quiet patience.
“You’re too good to be true,” I whispered.
“Or maybe I’m exactly what’s true,” he replied, leaning in. “You just finally found someone who sees you.”
This time, I kissed him.
Not because of the drama. Not because of the heat.
But because he was right.
He saw me.
And for now, that was enough to silence every storm brewing in my future.
- Writer
