The quiet hum of the house settled in after the door clicked shut behind Cyrus. I was still curled up on my bed wrapped in the softness of an old sweatshirt, my legs tucked under me, but it didn't feel comforting. My mind was too loud, replaying every second of the awkward evening.
I'd been in here for hours, not leaving once, not even to use the bathroom.
I stared at the TV but wasn't really watching. My comfort show had long faded into the background, and all I could hear was the soft clinking of pans from the kitchen. Matío was cooking, the rhythmic sound of utensils against pots breaking the stillness, mingling with the occasional sizzling hiss of something on the stove.
It's fine, I told myself, rolling my shoulders back, trying to shake off the tension. Just... ignore it.
But I couldn't.
I didn't want to admit it, but his presence had settled into the house like an unwanted guest, quietly filling the spaces. His scent still lingered from earlier, that sharp, almost-too-clean cologne mixing with the faint smell of burnt toast I could still smell faintly. Even from here, I could tell he was being careful with whatever he was making, moving fluidly through the motions like someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
I curled tighter into myself.
The sounds of the kitchen stopped for a moment, and I knew—knew—that I should probably just get up and go check if he needed help. Or just ask him what he was doing. But I stayed there, letting the quiet of the room swallow me.
A soft knock echoed from the door, followed by Matío's voice, low and cautious.
"You hungry?"
I frowned, hesitating for a moment. I had already eaten earlier, but... there was something about the offer that made my stomach flutter. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't just doing it out of politeness. Maybe it was the fact that he cared enough to ask, or maybe I was just really bad at saying no to food. But the way his voice carried the slightest edge of uncertainty made me want to go out there and just... see.
"I'm fine," I replied, keeping my voice light and distant. "I already ate."
I heard him exhale from the other side of the door. "Doesn't matter. I'm making extra. You should come eat anyway."
I bit my lip. Part of me didn't want to. Didn't want to give in to this moment, to whatever he was doing. The other part of me, the part that was tired and worn down by everything today, just wanted some comfort, even if it came with a side of awkwardness.
