Chapter 11
1543 Words
LUCA
I had been pacing my living room for almost half an hour without realizing how many times I had crossed the same space. Nothing in the apartment could distract me, not the television, not the half-opened book on the table, not even the training schedule Darrel sent earlier. My mind kept going back to the way Aria had looked yesterday, tired in a way that went beneath the skin, as though the day had drained something deeper than her energy.
I told myself I should stop thinking about her, that it was unwise to let the bond pull me around like this, but the more I tried to shut the thoughts away, the stronger they became.
Then the soft metallic creak of the compound gate opening came.
My body reacted before my thoughts did. I went straight to the window, pulled the curtain open just enough to see outside, and looked into the compound.
She walked in slowly, her steps steady but weighed down. She looked exhausted, but not nearly as defeated as she had been last night. There was something calmer about her today, as if she had pushed through something difficult and survived it, even if it left her drained.
I watched her longer than I should have.
Then she turned her head toward my window.
My heart jumped so violently that I snapped the curtain shut with far more force than necessary. I stepped away from the window quickly, as though the curtain had burned my hand.
“What was that?” I muttered to myself. “Why did you react like that?”
I placed a hand over my chest, trying to steady the hammering of my heartbeat. The bond hummed beneath my ribs, restless, calling toward her like an unseen current.
When her footsteps faded and I heard the faint echo of her apartment door closing upstairs, I finally walked out of mine.
Each step toward her door made my pulse grow heavier. I stood before it, lifted my hand to knock, then hesitated. The bond surged quietly, pushing forward, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sensation settle.
I wasn’t ready to knock, yet I couldn’t step away either. I leaned my forehead gently against the door, breathing slowly as I tried to understand what the bond wanted. It felt like someone tugged at a thread tied to my chest.
“Do you feel this too?” I whispered under my breath, wondering if she felt the same pull on the other side of the door.
I lifted my hand again, prepared to knock…
The door opened.
Her sudden appearance made me freeze in the most ridiculous way possible, my hand suspended in the air like I had been caught stealing. She looked at my lifted hand, then at my face. Her eyes narrowed just slightly in confusion.
“Luca… were you about to knock?”
I dropped my hand instantly. “No.”
Then, realizing how stupid that sounded, because of course I had been about to knock, I quickly added, “Yes.”
She stared at me for a moment, her expression caught between confusion and suspicion. “Which one is it?”
I cleared my throat, searching for the first excuse my brain could produce. “I came to ask if you had water. Mine is finished.”
The lie was terrible. It sounded terrible. She knew it too. Her eyes narrowed even more.
“Water?” she repeated slowly.
“Yes,” I said, already regretting everything. “Water.”
She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe a single word I had just spoken. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly.
“You know what? Never mind,” I said. “I’ll just go buy some.”
She hesitated for a moment, studying me with that slow, careful gaze of hers, then stepped aside.
“I have water. Come in. You look like someone who has not eaten anything decent in days, so you can eat something too.”
She was right. I had been too busy lately to eat anything tangible. My chest tightened in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I stepped inside, grateful and nervous all at once.
“Please, sit,” she said, nodding toward the couch.
Her apartment was warm, simple, and peaceful. “Your place is beautiful,” I said honestly.
She laughed softly. “Or you mean normal.”
“Normal can be beautiful,” I replied.
My eyes looked round her living room in admiration, then I saw the picture frame on the wall. Adrian. He was smiling at the camera with a confidence I remembered so well.
A heavy ache settled in my chest as I looked at my brother’s face. Something inside me twisted painfully, a mixture of grief and guilt washing through me. I felt like I shouldn’t be here, like simply standing in her home was wrong.
She turned toward me from the kitchen. “How many bottles do you want?”
“Just three,” I said, pulling my gaze from the photograph. “It’ll be enough for tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I’ll return them tomorrow.”
She shook her head lightly. “They’re just bottles of water, Luca. It’s not that serious.”
A quiet laugh escaped me. “Still. I’ll return them.”
“Food will be ready soon,” she said. “You can relax.”
“Let me help,” I replied. “It’s the least I can do.”
She paused, then smiled slightly. “All right. Come.”
I joined her in the kitchen. The soft sounds of chopping, stirring, and running water created a comforting rhythm. Standing beside her felt strangely natural, even though the bond buzzed beneath my skin with every small movement she made.
“How are you finding the human world?” I asked gently.
She let out a long breath. “Truthfully?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been very tough,” she admitted. “Back home, life was structured. There was always food, always help, always support. Here, everything is fast, everything depends on you, and nobody waits for anyone else. It can feel… overwhelming.”
She stirred the pot slowly. “But I love it, because everything I accomplish here will be mine.”
I watched her closely. “Are you okay?”
She hesitated, then looked at me. “Why are you asking?”
“I just want to make sure this world isn’t crushing you,” I said quietly. “That’s all.”
She softened a little. “I’m fine. Yesterday was rough. It really broke me. But today made up for it. Something good happened.”
She smiled to herself, and the sight warmed something inside me.
She turned back to the food. “Enough about me,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see your face everywhere. You’re on every billboard in this city.”
We moved to the dining table as she served the food. I rubbed my neck.
“Swimming is my whole life now,” I said. “After I left Aveline because of my father, I felt lost. I didn’t know where I belonged. The human world was overwhelming and I didn’t have anyone to talk to consistently except Adrian. We weren’t speaking every day, so I had to find something that kept me anchored.”
She looked at me softly. I continued.
“Swimming started as something small. Then it became something I needed to survive. And now it’s everything.”
We talked for a long time, about the city, about work, about the pack, and about the strange turns life had taken. She laughed at some of my stories, and each laugh hit me in a place I wasn’t prepared for.
Time moved faster than I wanted.
Eventually, I glanced at my watch. “I should go. It’s getting late.”
Something flashed across her face, just for a heartbeat. A quiet shift. She hid it quickly, but the bond didn’t miss it. The air warmed and tightened around us.
I walked to the door. “Thank you for the food,” I said softly. “And for the water.”
I looked at my empty hands. “I forgot to pick them up.”
She laughed under her breath. “I’ll get them.”
She returned with the bottles and held them out to me.
I reached for them, and our hands touched.
Heat rushed through my arm, spreading across my chest. Her grip tightened slightly, and mine did the same. Our eyes locked, and the room fell silent. The moment stretched, warm and electric.
She didn’t move. I didn’t either.
Her breath hitched softly.
Then…
“Meow.”
The cat wandered between our feet, brushing against her ankle. The moment cracked and fell apart. We both blinked and released the bottles in the same awkward second.
I cleared my throat. “Good night, Aria.”
“Good night, Luca,” she said quietly.
I stepped out of her apartment, but the pull of her presence followed me long after the door closed.
- Writer
