Bridging Hearts

24. We are so dead.

Him

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. There she was, still wrapped up in my arms, her head resting against my chest. Her breathing was soft, steady, completely at ease.

Tara.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring at her, taking in the quiet of the morning. Her hair was tousled, falling across her face in a way that almost made me smile. I lifted my hand and gently brushed a strand away, tucking it behind her ear. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her lips parting just a little.

Without thinking, I leaned in and pressed a quick, soft kiss on her lips.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, a little groggy but warm. I couldn't help but grin.

"Hey," I whispered, nudging her gently. "Time to wake up."

She nodded, a soft smile pulling at her lips. She didn't say anything, just closed her eyes again for a second as if to savor the moment.

I gave her one last glance, then carefully removed my arm from around her. I slid out of bed quietly and headed to start my morning routine.

Her

The smell of something delicious drifted through the air, pulling me out of the cozy warmth of bed. I stretched lazily before slipping out, reaching for the nearest piece of clothing I could find—one of Dante's shirts. I buttoned it up and made my way downstairs, following the enticing scent coming from the kitchen.

When I entered, there he was, cooking by the stove, his back to me. I padded barefoot across the cool floor and hopped up onto the kitchen counter, swinging my legs casually.

Dante glanced over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So, already dominating over my closet, are we?"

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Any problem with that, Mr. Grump?"

He turned around, walking up to me and squeezing my thigh playfully. "No problem at all, but you're making it very hard to concentrate on cooking."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "So cheesy in the morning?"

He grinned, his hand still resting on my leg as he leaned closer. "Always."

Rolling my eyes, I asked, "What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes," he replied, reaching over to the counter and tossing me a few strawberries. "Here, have some while I finish them up."

I caught them and popped one into my mouth, watching him as he turned back to the stove. My gaze lingered for a second too long, and that's when I noticed it—a large scar running across his back. It looked rough, deep even, like it had been there a long time.

"Where did you get that scar?" I asked, my voice softer now.

Dante paused, his hand hovering over the pan for just a second before he resumed cooking. "Fell down the stairs when I was 12. Back hit the staircase handles."

I stared at him for a moment, his answer ringing hollow, but I let it go. I trusted him. For now.

A few minutes later, Dante turned around with a plate of golden-brown pancakes. He walked over and, to my surprise, began feeding me a bite. I raised an eyebrow, but the taste was too good to protest.

"Compliments to the chef," I said, my mouth full. "These are amazing."

He smiled that lopsided smile of his. "Thank you, Signora (Ma'am)."

We ate in comfortable silence, sharing bites of pancakes and laughing about nothing in particular. Everything felt so... simple. So easy.

But that peace was shattered when the doorbell rang, loud and sudden.

Dante wiped his hands on a towel, heading for the door. I didn't think much of it, until I saw the look on his face when he opened it.

Standing there, his face an unreadable mask of surprise and suspicion, was Bhaiya.

My heart dropped.

We are so dead.

Him

As I opened the door, my stomach clenched. Standing on the other side was Arjun, arms crossed, and looking like he'd been rehearsing his interrogation speech for hours. His gaze flicked to me, then past me into the apartment.

"Hey, Dante. Tara's not in, is she?" His tone was casual, but I wasn't fooled.

Before I could speak, Tara's voice came from behind me. "Uh, yeah, I'm here. Just having breakfast..."

I nearly winced. Arjun's eyes narrowed as they swept over her, taking in the fact that she was still wearing my shirt—just my shirt. I could practically see the gears in his head turning.

"Where are your clothes, Tara?" he asked, his voice a little too calm for comfort.

Shit. 

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. If there was ever a time for a convincing lie, this was it.

I cleared my throat, cutting off whatever Tara was about to say. "Uh, yeah, about that. I got super drunk last night and... well, I kinda threw up all over her. So, you know... she borrowed one of my shirts while I got my life together." I flashed him what I hoped was a convincing grin. "You know how it is."

Arjun's frown deepened, but slowly, his expression softened. "You okay now, Dante?"

"Yeah, man, I'm good. It's fine. She here helped a lot last night. Wh-why don't you join us for breakfast?" I suggested.

Arjun blinked at me, clearly unimpressed with my sudden lack of coordination. "Oh no, I need to freshen up a bit first. Tara, you coming?"

Tara nodded, still wearing that damn smirk. "Yeah, let me change. I'll be over in a bit."

As soon as Arjun turned and walked towards his house, I let out a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding. The door clicked shut behind him, and I turned to Tara, who was now leaning against the counter with a grin. "Well, Mr. Grump, back to our original routine, huh? Though... we could totally just tell him now, you know?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh sure, let's invite him in for pancakes and a side of 'by the way, we're sort of a thing.' Sounds great."

Tara laughed. Gosh, I loved to hear the sound of her laughter. It was my favourite song.

"Alright, Mr. Grump. I guess I should get back to bhaiya's before he gets any more suspicious."

I tossed her a pair of my jeans to replace the shirt-dress situation, and she pulled them on quickly and put on her coat. I watched as she finished adjusting herself and gave me a little wave before heading to the door.

She paused for a second, looking back at me with a raised eyebrow. "You sure you're okay with not telling him yet?"

I shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. "We'll tell him when the time's right. Besides, that was a close call. We need to plan this better before we drop the bomb."

She gave me one last grin before stepping out and shutting the door behind her. The apartment fell into a heavy silence. For a second, I stood there, staring at the door, feeling oddly empty now that she was gone.

But I also felt... relieved. That was way too close for comfort.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. We're so dead if Arjun ever finds out.