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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆A Few Hours Later⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆Porter Luxury Apartments, Chicago IL⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆
SZA's Love Galore hummed softly in the background as Ciyana draped the drying towel across the divider of her double kitchen sink, signaling her kitchen was officially closed for the night.
She turned on the stove's night light, the warm glow casting a comforting shadow over the countertops, and lit two three-wick Strawberry Snowflake candles from Bath & Body Works' Christmas collection.
Thanksgiving hadn't even arrived yet, but to her, Christmas started the moment Halloween ended. And honestly, she'd light these candles in July if they weren't so obvious. They smelled that good.
Before cleaning, she'd spent the evening meal prepping spicy baked chicken, jasmine rice, and broccoli for the week—something her future self would thank her for to avoid endless takeout or late-night cooking.
She hadn't managed to fix herself something to eat yet, but the small taste tests while cooking would have to do for now. She wasn't in the mood for leftovers, and laziness had officially won tonight.
After loading the dishwasher and putting away a pile of clean pots and pans that had been staring at her from the counter for—if she was being honest—at least a few days. And since she had the time, she killed two birds with one stone by cleaning the living room as well.
From sweeping and mopping the floor, to disinfecting the counters, fluffing and dusting the couch cushions, and even vacuuming the area rug. She went the whole nine yards. The kitchen actually wasn't just closed for the night—this whole area was on lockdown until tomorrow.
Now with her skincare done. Night routine complete. Even an everything shower checked off her list. The only thing left was to grab a face mask, throw on a Lifetime movie, and finally unwind.
Oh, how she loved being a woman.
Well, at least that was the plan until a knock at the front door stopped her in her tracks. The fact that she wasn't expecting anyone—and that the knock sounding harder than necessary— her heart skip a few beats.
Grabbing the biggest knife from her kitchen drawer, she tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. She sighed in relief when she saw it was only Makai. That didn't exactly end her state of confusion though.
He stood on the other side, holding a plastic bag with a yellow and blue smiley face in one hand—a smell she clearly recognized even through the door. In the other hand, a bouquet of coral and white tulips—her most favorite flowers ever. Another fact she'd never shared with him.
If she didn't know any better she'd say this man worked for the FBI.
She exhaled and set the knife down, unlocking and opening the door cautiously. Whatever his excuse was, it better be good. Because if he thought he could just pop up unannounced to her house... her house she still wondered how he knew the address to... or how he knew what floor and door was hers... and all he had to do was bring takeout and flowers and everything would be sweet...Well, he might not be entirely wrong.
