CHAPTER SEVEN - A Little While Now
1076 Words
Lucas’s POV
I felt it the moment we sat down.
Not pressure exactly, just awareness. The kind that settled quietly in your chest and stayed there, reminding you that every movement mattered a little more than usual.
Naomi sat beside me, posture relaxed but deliberate. If someone didn’t know her well, they’d think she was perfectly calm. I did know her well enough by now to see the signs—the careful stillness, the way her fingers rested lightly on the edge of the table, like she was grounding herself.
Across from us, her mom smiled warmly, but her eyes were sharp. Not suspicious. Observant. The kind of attention that wasn’t searching for flaws, just truth.
That was worse.
“So, Lucas,” she said after we’d ordered, folding her hands together, “Naomi tells me you’re also at Calcaster.”
“Yes,” I replied. “Same year.”
She nodded approvingly. “Busy place.”
“It is,” I said. “But manageable.”
Naomi glanced at me briefly, like she was checking whether I sounded like myself.
I was.
That was the strange part.
Conversation unfolded easily at first—classes, majors, professors who took attendance like it was a personal mission.
Naomi laughed softly at one point, shaking her head, and I found myself smiling without thinking.
Her mom noticed.
For some reason, she always noticed.
“You seem to balance each other,” she said lightly.
Naomi smiled politely. “We try.”
I didn’t add anything. I didn’t need to.
As the food arrived, the table filled with small, ordinary moments. Naomi passed me the pepper without asking. I nudged her glass closer when it was near the edge.
None of it was planned.
None of it felt fake.
Her mom excused herself briefly, standing and heading toward the restroom. The moment she was out of sight, Naomi released a slow breath.
“She’s watching,” Naomi murmured.
“I know,” I said quietly.
“She always does that thing where she lets people get comfortable first.”
I nodded. “She’s good at it.”
Naomi looked at me sideways. “You’re doing okay.”
“So are you.”
That earned me a small smile—this time it's real, not rehearsed.
When her mom returned, the conversation picked back up without effort. She asked about my family. I answered honestly, careful not to overshare but not withholding either. Naomi listened closely, like she was learning things alongside her mom.
That awareness hit me unexpectedly.
At some point, her mom leaned back slightly, studying us again.
“You two seem very comfortable together,” she said.
Naomi’s shoulders tensed just a fraction.
I didn’t think.
“Yeah,” I said. “We are.”
The words are hung between us.
Naomi turned to look at me, surprise flickering briefly across her face before she masked it. Her mom smiled softly, satisfied.
“Comfort is important,” she said. “It tells you more than grand gestures ever will.”
Naomi nodded slowly. “I agree.”
Her foot brushed mine under the table as she shifted.
She didn’t pull away.
Neither did I.
The moment passed quietly, but something settled deeper in my chest.
Later, as plates were cleared and drinks refreshed, her mom tilted her head slightly, voice casual.
“So,” she said, “how long have you two been together?”
There it was.
I felt Naomi tense beside me, even though her expression stayed neutral. I could almost hear her counting backwards in her head, trying to line dates up perfectly.
I answered before she could overthink it.
“A little while now,” I said evenly.
Naomi nodded smoothly. “Yeah.”
Her mom hummed thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”
And just like that, the question dissolved.
No suspicion. No follow-up.
I realized then that this wasn’t an interrogation.
It was confirmation.
She wasn’t trying to catch us. She was trying to understand us—and from her expression, she already had.
That realization landed heavier than I expected.
Because if someone like her believed this so easily, then whatever we were doing wasn’t just convincing.
It was believable.
At one point, Naomi laughed openly at something her mom said, tilting her head back slightly. Without thinking, I smiled too—not because the comment was funny, but because she was.
Her mom’s gaze flicked between us.
Then she smiled again.
After brunch, as we stood to leave, her mom hugged Naomi tightly. Then, unexpectedly, she turned to me and pulled me into a brief embrace as well.
“Take care of her,” she said softly, firmly.
“I will,” I replied without hesitation.
Naomi met my eyes over her mom’s shoulder.
Something unspoken passed between us.
The walk home was quieter than the walk there.
It's not awkward.
Just... full.
The city noise faded into the background as we walked side by side. Our steps fell into an easy rhythm, close enough that our arms brushed now and then.
“You didn’t have to answer that question,” Naomi said eventually.
I knew exactly which one she meant.
“I know,” I replied.
She glanced at me. “Then why did you?”
I thought about it before answering.
“Because it was true,” I said. “Just… not specific.”
She considered that, then nodded slowly.
“That worked,” she admitted.
“Yeah.”
Too well.
When we reached the apartment, the door closed behind us with a familiar click. The space felt the same—but different, somehow. It was like it remembered everything that had just happened.
Naomi set her bag down near the couch, lingering.
“That went well,” she said.
“It did.”
She hesitated, then looked at me. “Thank you. For today.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“I still want to.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
She smiled softly, then turned toward her room. At the doorway, she paused, like she might say something else.
Then she didn’t.
The door closed quietly behind her.
I stayed where I was, staring at it longer than necessary.
This was supposed to be simple.
Temporary.
Controlled.
But somewhere between her mom’s careful questions and Naomi’s unguarded laughter
The line had blurred again.
And this time, I wasn’t sure I wanted it sharpened.
- Writer
