The bathroom mirror was slightly fogged from the shower, and I leaned closer, carefully applying eyeliner while still wrapped in a towel. The outfit I’d picked for the day—a simple but fttering top and jeans—was id out on the counter, ready for me to slip into after I finished getting ready. My nerves were a low hum in the background, a mix of excitement and apprehension about the meeting with Ethan.

  I was brushing on mascara when I heard the soft click of the bathroom door opening. Turning slightly, I saw Devon leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a scowl firmly in pce.

  “You’re really getting all dolled up for this ‘meet-up’ secret date?” he asked, his tone sharp but edged with a hint of vulnerability.

  “It’s not a date,” I corrected, rolling my eyes as I returned to the mirror. “It’s just Ethan, and we’re just hanging out. Nothing more.”

  “Right,” Devon said, pushing off the frame and stepping closer. His eyes flicked to my reflection, his jaw tightening. “Still doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  I sighed, setting the mascara down. “You don’t have to like it. But you trust me, right?”

  “I trust you,” he said, coming up behind me. His hands rested lightly on my hips, and his tone softened as he continued, “It’s him I don’t trust.”

  I met his gaze in the mirror, my annoyance melting into a faint smile. “You’re just overprotective.”

  “Can you bme me?” he asked, leaning down so his lips brushed my ear. His breath was warm, sending a shiver down my spine. “I don’t like sharing.”

  I turned in his arms, leaning against the counter and looking up at him. “You’re not sharing anything, Devon. He knows where I stand; you, me, and Selene are a thing.”

  “Good, but that's different,” he said, his voice dropping lower as his hands tightened slightly on my waist. “As long as he knows you’re mine. You're ours.”

  I smirked, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Of course I am.”

  His lips cimed mine in a possessive and tender kiss, a mix of emotions that made my heart race. When we finally broke apart, he looked at me with a faint grin, the tension in his shoulders easing.

  “Do we have time for a quickie?” he asked, his voice pyful but his eyes dark with intent.

  I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

  “Is that a no?” he asked, leaning down to kiss me again, his hands roaming lower.

  I ughed softly against his lips. “Fine. But quick.”

  ?????°???°?????

  The café was nestled in a quiet part of town, its soft glow spilling onto the cobblestone street like a warm invitation. String lights hung above the entrance, swaying gently in the evening breeze. I stood outside for a moment, clutching the strap of my bag as nerves fluttered in my chest. This wasn’t just any meeting—it was Ethan, and I had no idea what to expect.

  The door creaked softly as I pushed it open, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries wrapping around me. A single barista manned the counter, but there were no customers inside. My phone buzzed in my hand, and I gnced at the message.

  Ethan: Come up the stairs, the door’s open.

  The narrow staircase at the back of the café was dimly lit, leading to what I guessed was his apartment above. Each step felt heavier than the st, my pulse quickening as I reached the nding. The door was slightly ajar, just as he’d said, and I hesitated before gently pushing it open.

  “Ethan?” I called softly.

  “In here,” came his reply, muffled but calm.

  The door creaked softly as I pushed it open, stepping into Ethan’s apartment. The warm scent of coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of electronics. His pce was small but cozy, with shelves lined haphazardly with books and a mix of old and new gaming consoles stacked near a wall-mounted TV. A desk near the corner housed a cluster of monitors, the glow casting soft shadows across the room.

  Ethan stood near the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand. He was taller than I’d expected, his broad shoulders framed by a slightly worn fnnel shirt over a pin gray tee. His jeans were faded but clean, and there was a ruggedness to him that wasn’t present in-game—a five-o’clock shadow, tiredness in his dark eyes, and a way he carried himself that spoke of someone who had lived more life than he let on. He looked different from what I’d imagined—perhaps less polished but far more real. His dark eyes met mine, and for a moment, neither spoke.

  “You’re here,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

  “I said I’d come,” I replied, stepping further inside. “Nice pce.”

  He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he gnced around. “It’s... lived in.”

  “Lived in is good,” I said, smiling. “It’s honest.”

  “It’s a work in progress,” he said with a faint smirk, gesturing toward the couch. “Make yourself at home.

  He gestured to the couch, his expression softening. “You want to sit?”

  I sat, the cushions soft but well-worn, while he set his mug down and joined me, keeping a respectful distance.

  “You’re quieter in real life,” I said, breaking the silence.

  “Am I?” he asked, a hint of his usual smirk returning. “Maybe I’m just taking it all in.”

  “Or maybe you’re nervous,” I teased, tilting my head.

  He ughed softly, the sound low and warm. “Maybe.”

  Up close, his features carried more detail than I’d ever imagined—strong but not harsh, with faint lines at the corners of his eyes that hinted at sleepless nights or too much time staring at screens.

  “Not what you expected?” he asked, catching me looking.

  I flushed slightly. “No, it’s just... different. Seeing you like this.”

  “Different, how?” he asked, leaning back, his voice teasing but not unkind.

  “More real,” I admitted. “Not that you’re fake in-game, but... this is new.”

  He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly what I expected either.”

  “How so?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  He hesitated, running a hand through his slightly messy dark hair. “I don’t know. I mean, I knew you were determined and capable, but... you’re also a lot braver than I gave you credit for.”

  “Brave?” I echoed, ughing softly. “I’m sitting on a couch. Hardly heroic.”

  “Brave enough to meet me here,” he said. “Not a lot of people would’ve.”

  The conversation flowed easier after that, the awkwardness giving way to something more natural. Ethan told me about his job, his love for games, and how he’d always been more comfortable in digital worlds than the real ones.

  “I was always that kid in school,” he said, staring down at his hands. “The one who never quite fit. Too smart for my own good but too restless to make anything of it. Teachers didn’t know what to do with me, so they didn’t.”

  “That must’ve been hard,” I said gently.

  “It was,” he admitted, his tone quiet. “But it’s not all bad. It’s how I got into tech. I figured if people wouldn’t give me a chance, I’d make one for myself.”

  “And now you’re working with the devs,” I said, smiling. “That’s pretty impressive.”

  He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Guess so. But it’s not like I pnned it. I just... stumbled into it. Lucky, I guess.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” I said. “You’re smart, Ethan. Smarter than most people I know.”

  “Fttery will get you everywhere,” he quipped, though his ears reddened slightly.

  “What about you?” he asked, shifting the focus. “Why stick with the game? You could’ve logged out and left all this behind.”

  “I could’ve,” I admitted, leaning back against the couch. “But I love it there. The world, the people... it feels like home.”

  “Even with all the chaos?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Especially with the chaos,” I said, grinning. “It keeps things interesting.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Kiera. You know that?”

  “So I’ve been told,” I said, ughing softly.

  For a moment, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Ethan’s gaze lingered on me, something unspoken in his eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable.

  “You know,” he said, looking down at his hands. “When I agreed to meet, I thought... I don’t know. That maybe you’d take one look at me and regret it.”

  “Why would I regret it?” I asked, genuinely confused.

  He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, self-deprecating smile. “Because I’m just a guy with too many monitors and not enough... anything else.”

  “You’re a lot more than that,” I said firmly. “And if you can’t see it, that’s your problem—not mine.”

  Ethan blinked, caught off guard, before ughing softly. “You really are dangerous, you know that?”

  “So I’ve heard,” I replied with a grin.

  As the night stretched on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—favorite games and pns for the next raid. It felt easy like we’d known each other offline for years rather than minutes.

  The night stretched on, the earlier tension between us dissolving into something easier, something... normal. After talking about games and the quirks of Eidolon Nexus, the conversation naturally drifted to movies.

  “I’m going to take a wild guess,” Ethan said, leaning back on the couch with a faint smirk. “You’re a rom-com fan.”

  I ughed, shaking my head. “Not exactly. I like a good fantasy epic or a thriller. Something with a little edge.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I can work with that. Ever seen something that’s... not mainstream?”

  “Like indie films?” I asked.

  “Something like that,” he said, standing and heading over to his cluttered shelves. He rummaged for a moment before pulling out a fsh drive and plugging it into the media pyer connected to his TV.

  “What’s this?” I asked as he returned to the couch.

  He grinned, leaning back beside me. “An independent film that never made it to the public. I got my hands on it during one of my... freence gigs.”

  “You hacked it?” I asked, half-impressed, half-amused.

  “‘Acquired,’” he corrected, his smirk widening. “It’s legit. Promise.”

  The screen flickered to life, the opening credits rolling over hauntingly beautiful shots of a forest at sunrise. The movie was a mix of psychological thriller and poetic visuals, its quiet moments drawing me in as much as the tension building between the characters.

  As we watched, Ethan’s occasional comments filled the gaps in the dialogue. “The cinematography is insane here,” he said, motioning to a long shot of the protagonist walking through the forest.

  “Agreed,” I murmured, my eyes glued to the screen. “It’s like the scenery is a character in itself.”

  He nodded, his gaze flicking to me briefly. “That’s exactly what the director was going for. They wanted nature to feel like it was alive, almost like a silent antagonist.”

  “You know a lot about this,” I said, gncing at him.

  He shrugged, a faint blush creeping onto his face. “I did a deep dive into it when I first got the file. Guess it stuck.”

  We continued watching, the film pulling us further into its world. I found myself leaning slightly closer to him at one particurly emotional scene, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, his arm rested lightly on the back of the couch, his presence warm and steady beside me.

  The movie ended, its haunting credits rolling to a soft, somber tune. The room was silent except for the faint hum of Ethan’s monitors in the background. Kiera leaned back against the couch, her head resting lightly on Ethan’s shoulder. Neither moved, the quiet settling over them like a bnket.

  Before either of them realized it, the soft rhythm of the room—breathing, warmth, and shared exhaustion—lulled them both to sleep.

  Ethan stirred briefly in the middle of the night, the weight of Kiera’s head shifting slightly against his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room just enough to see her. She was curled toward him, her cheek resting against his chest now, her breathing slow and steady.

  His heart gave a quiet pang, a mixture of awe and disbelief washing over him. Carefully, he adjusted his arm, draping it around her shoulders in a way that felt both protective and natural. She murmured something incoherent, snuggling closer into him, and Ethan couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

  “Dangerous,” he whispered softly, the word barely audible in the stillness. His head tilted slightly, resting against hers. For a moment, he allowed himself the indulgence of just being there with her before sleep pulled him back under.

  When I woke up, I first noticed warmth—steady and grounding, like a weighted bnket that was slightly too comforting to leave. It took me a moment to realize the warmth came from Ethan’s arm, draped loosely around my shoulder, and his chest beneath my cheek. My eyes fluttered open, blinking against the soft glow of the TV’s idle screen.

  I shifted slightly, sitting up, which stirred him awake. His arm moved as his dark eyes opened slowly, blinking at me as though he was still half-asleep. His hair was even messier than usual, sticking out in odd angles, and I had to stop myself from smiling at how unguarded he looked.

  “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough.

  “Morning,” I replied, brushing back my hair. Then my phone buzzed, and I grabbed it from my bag, groaning at the flood of missed calls and messages lighting up the screen.

  [Missed Calls: Devon (4), Selene (2)][Messages:]

  Devon: Kiera, where are you?Selene: You’re either dead or ignoring us. Either way, not cool.Devon: Call me. Now.

  “Ugh,” I muttered, sinking back into the couch. “I’m in so much trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Ethan asked, rubbing his face as he sat up straighter. “From them?”

  “Mostly Devon,” I said, showing him the screen. “He’s already overprotective, and now I’ve got four missed calls to deal with.”

  Ethan chuckled softly, his voice still rough with sleep. “Sorry. I woke up at some point st night... I probably should’ve woken you, but—”

  “Why didn’t you?” I asked, tilting my head, though there wasn’t any bite to my tone.

  He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “You looked... peaceful. And I guess I didn’t want to ruin that.”

  I stared at him for a moment, feeling my frustration dissolve into something softer. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

  “Guess?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I smirked, standing up and smoothing out my clothes. “I'll let you figure that out. But now I have to deal with the fallout.”

  Ethan stood, walking me to the door. As I slipped on my shoes, the air between us felt warm but tinged with a strange, quiet tension. He leaned against the doorframe, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze flicking to the floor.

  “You’re really going to be in trouble for this, huh?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

  “Eh, probably,” I admitted, ughing softly. “But I’ll survive.”

  A silence settled between us, heavy and unspoken. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, impulsively, I stepped forward, leaning up slightly to kiss his cheek. His skin was warm, and he froze under the contact.

  “There’s your kiss,” I said, pulling back with a small smile.

  His dark eyes blinked at me, and a faint blush crept across his cheeks. “You’re... dangerous.”

  I winked, stepping into the hallway. “See you in-game.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly, watching me go as he leaned against the doorframe. “See you.”

  Walking down the dimly lit stairs, my heart felt strangely light despite the missed calls and the conversation with Devon that awaited me. For all of Ethan’s walls and hesitations, st night had been something real—a moment that felt like the start of something meaningful.