[Lena]
The streets had gotten even emptier, the blackout keeping everyone locked inside and rushing people to get home asap. But as we walked, I realized I didn't really mind the dark anymore.
We walked without talking for quite a while, the silence felt pretty comfortable now. I immediately noticed how our footsteps fell into the exact same, steady rhythm on the pavement; he probably didn't.
Then, I spotted a lone ice cream cart parked under a dead streetlamp, its small battery light glowing.
I stopped so abruptly he nearly plowed right into my back.
"No," he said, anticipating me.
I followed the cart with my eyes. "No, what?"
"Ice cream?" he asked incredulously. "At this hour?"
"Especially at this hour."
"Lena."
For the first time he actually got my name right, but I couldn't concentrate. I was already halfway across the concrete.
"Come on!" I called back, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along. He followed, of course. At this point, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice.
I ordered my usual double scoop berry flavour. The vendor handed it over, and I turned to him. He immediately shook his head. "I don't want any."
"Okay. More for me."
I took a big bite, then another, enjoying the cold shock of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him staring intently at the cone.
I raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You want some." I plunged the cone forward, right under his nose.
"No."
"You really look like you do."
"I reallydon't."
"Okay, fine, if you don't want to," I said, starting to pull it back.
He let out a long sigh. "Fine. Give me some, I guess."
I beamed. "Thought you didn't want any."
"Changed my mind. No harm trying."
I held it out steadily. He leaned over and took a quick, clean bite from the side I hadn't touched yet, then straightened back up.
"Good?" I asked.
He chewed, then nodded slowly. "Very."
I smiled, taking a bite myself. "I told you."
He went to hand the waffle cone back to me, and our fingers brushed. Just a slight, brief contact, but neither of us moved away immediately. The dark street seemed to quiet down around us for a split second. Then, I reflexively pulled the cone back into my grip.
"You know, you could've just gotten your own," I mumbled.
He shrugged. "You offered me yours."
"I didn't."
"You held it out."
"That wasn't me offering mine."
"It is in my world."
I laughed, the tension breaking. "Your world sounds exhausting."
He stopped walking, his gaze fixing on me. "Somehow you're still there."
The words landed completely differently this time. The playful air evaporated. My smile slipped away, and he seemed to realize what he'd said the moment the words left his mouth. His eyes dropped to the floor.
"Yeah," I said quietly, looking down at the melting ice cream in my hand. "I guess I am. At least for tonight."
Neither of us said anything else. I took another bite to cover the sudden weight in the air, and we kept moving down the sidewalk.
Eventually, we found a quiet stone bench set back from the path. I sat down, unzipped my bag, and pulled out a small, awful green glass bottle of soju.
He looked at it and immediately flatly said, "No."
"You don't even know what I was going to say!"
"You're going to drink it."
"Maybe a sip."
"No."
I pouted. "You're so bossy."
"You're too irresponsible."
"I am not!" I was already taking sips.
"Lena, you literally walked straight into a lamppost a while back, and then into two separate fire hydrants."
"That lamppost was being aggressive," I argued, crossing my arms. "And so were the fire hydrants. They came out of nowhere."
He burst out laughing — a real, unprompted laugh.
I pointed a finger at him triumphantly. "Aha! You're laughing. Again"
"You're completely ridiculous."
"And you're smiling, too."
This time, he actually looked away, trying to hide it, but I saw the tilt of his mouth he was so desperately trying to hide.
"Its not so bad to express your emotions you know?" I twisted the cap off and took a small sip. "The colour of these bottles are so bad,"
"Why?" He asked, genuinely curious, or surprised I couldn't tell.
"I don't know, they are just ugly. They could design this so much better. Such horrible colour design."
"Well they should hire you, I'm sure you'll boast their business."
"Ofcourse," I agreed before unknowingly taking a little too big of a sip. The sharp liquid burned pleasantly down my throat. I could feel his eyes tracking my every move.
"That's enough," he said.
"I barely had a drop."
"Still."
I rolled my eyes. "You sound like my mother."
"Your mother sounds like a sensible woman."
"You don't even know her."
"Well, she managed to raise you, so that's enough for me to know she has her hands full."
"Unfortunately for her, that's true," I muttered.
He smiled again, a softer look this time.
I went to take another tiny sip, but he reached across the space between us and firmly took the bottle right out of my fingers.
"Hey!"
He spun the plastic cap back on with his thumb, completely ignoring my protest. "You're done."
I stared at him, leaning back against the cold stone bench. "You really are bossy."
"Yes."
As I leaned back, the world took a slight, dizzy tilt. I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision.
He noticed instantly. "Lena."
"I'm fine."
"You've said that many times before."
"And I was."
"Right before you walked into a lamppost and—"
"Again with the lamppost!" I complained, though my voice was getting a bit softer, the alcohol and the long night finally catching up to me.
He smiled, and I smiled back, my vision gradually growing a little blurry around the edges. Then, the warmth faded, and the smile slowly slipped from my face.
I looked down at my hands resting in my lap, the silence turning heavy again. "Do you ever . . ." I started, then bit my lip and stopped.
He waited, completely still beside me.
"Never mind," I whispered.
"What is it?"
"Nothing."
He didn't push. He just sat there right beside me, close enough that I could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing against the quiet city.
I forced myself to look up, meeting his eyes through the shadows. "Do you ever wish you could just stay somewhere forever?"
His expression completely changed.
"Somewhere?" he repeated, the word quiet on his tongue.
"Anywhere," I said, looking out toward the dark street. "You know, perhaps somewhere nobody expects anything from you."
He was quiet for a long beat. Then he said, "Yeah. I guess."
Just that. No joke. No sarcasm. No wall.
My fingers tightened around the hem of my dress. "Where would it be?"
He looked ahead into the blacked-out intersection. "I don't know. Perhaps a place like that doesn't even exist."
I smiled faintly. "That's hella depressing."
"Probably."
I looked at him. His eyes were fixed somewhere far away.
I didn't ask him to elaborate, and I didn't say the cliche thing—that somewhere could be absolutely anywhere, or that he could build it himself if he wanted to. I think somewhere deep down, he already knew that. He just wasn't allowing himself to believe it yet.
Instead of lecturing him, I just nudged my shoulder against his.
His eyes snapped back to me. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You're weird, Lixa."
"I know." I left my shoulder resting right there. "Also it's Lena, why do you keep getting it wrong."
After a second, he didn't pull away. His shoulder stayed pressed against mine, too. Neither of us moved. The quiet city hummed around us.
Then he said quietly, "You should go home."
I looked up at him. "Do you want me to?"
He opened his mouth to answer, stopped, and looked away. "I don't know, I mean I guess no, a little. But you should."
The word was so quiet I almost missed it entirely.
Stunned, I felt a soft warmth blossom in my chest. "Okay."
He glanced back at me. "What?"
"Nothing." I rested my head against the back of the stone bench. "Just okay."
Something in his face softened. The small bottle of soju remained between us on the bench, untouched. We stayed right there in the dark until my eyes started burning from exhaustion.
He noticed it before I could even think about admitting it. "You're way too tired."
"Nope."
"Yes, you are."
"I can stay awake," I insisted, blinking hard.
"I didn't ask you to."
I smiled, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. "Do you always take care of people you CPU-booted out of a pharmacy five minutes after meeting them?"
He looked at me. For a second, I thought he wouldn't answer at all.
Then, "No."
"Then why?"
His eyes stayed locked on mine. Something flickered deep in his gaze—something raw and vulnerable that I couldn't quite name.
"You're annoying," he muttered.
I smiled. "That isn't an answer."
"It is."
I laughed quietly.
He stood up, brushing off his jacket. "Come on."
"Where?"
"We're going to drop you to your house."
"But the night is still so young," I groaned.
"Sure, ma'am, but not for me. I need to get you home."
I tried to stand up, but the moment my feet hit the pavement, the ground took a sudden, violent shift beneath me. I stumbled forward, my hand instantly grabbing his arm for balance.
His hand closed around my elbow immediately, steadying me against his side.
"Okay," he said, looking down at me as I found my footing. "I take it back."
"What?"
"You truly aren't fine."
I frowned, trying to pull myself together. "Of course I am."
"You're literally leaning all your imaginery weight on me."
I looked down. I was. I straightened up immediately, clearing my throat. "I was just…"
"Testing gravity?"
"Yes. Precisely."
"Very scientific."
I smiled, and he shook his head, but he didn't let go of my arm until he was entirely sure I was steady on my feet.
We walked toward his car parked down the block. This time, without saying a word, he adjusted his stride to match mine.
Pretty Slow. Patient. Completely unprompted.
When I slid into the passenger seat, I immediately leaned my head against the cool glass of the window.
The inside of the car smelled faintly like dark coffee and something clean, like cedar I guess? He started the engine, and a soft, low melody filled the quiet cabin.
I watched the dark city begin to move past the window. Dark. Then a flash of an emergency light. Then dark again. My eyelids grew heavier with every block.
"You know," I murmured into the glass.
He glanced over at me from the steering wheel. "What?"
"I still think you're a pretty good candidate."
"For?"
"A friend," I smiled sleepily. "A ridiculously amazing one."
He didn't say anything to that.
"You're supposed to say thank you," I prompted.
A small smile touched his lips. "Thank you."
"See?" I mumbled, my voice trailing off. "See what?"
"You're capable of being a truly nice man."
"Go to sleep, Lena."
"I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"You're nice."
He didn't answer.
I closed my eyes, letting the rhythmic motion of the car rock me deeper into the seat. The car moved smoothly through the sleeping city.
At some point, the power grid must have kicked back in. One street at a time, the lights came back. Dark windows suddenly flickered awake with golden light. Neon signs blinked to life on the storefronts. The whole city began to glow again, washing over the dashboard.
But I kept my eyes tightly shut. I realized I liked it better in the dark.
The car was almost silent, save for the occasional, soft tap-tap of his fingers against the steering wheel before going perfectly still. The car slowed down for a turn, then sped up gently.
He was driving carefully.
Way too carefully.
I smiled against the window pane. I wanted to say something out loud to tease him about it, but I couldn't quite articulate the words.
The last thing I felt was the car AC blowing warm air around my ankles. The last thing I heard was his voice, dropping to a low, rough whisper against the hum of the engine—something that sounded entirely like, "…live?"
And somewhere between one red light and the next, I dozed off before I could grasp his question or give him an answer.