Ayra's POV
Sunlight draped itself gently over the floorboards of Selene and Antonio's mansion, creeping in like a soft promise. The curtains swayed with the breeze coming from the half-open balcony doors, letting in the scent of dew and spring. Laughter from the kitchen reached me before the warm smell of coffee and baked cinnamon rolls did.
Eliot and I had stayed the night—not because our own house was far (it stood just next door), but because nights like this felt sacred. It was less about convenience, more about comfort. Home wasn't just a place. It was the people. And Selene—my sister by blood and by soul—was the heart of it.
I walked into the dining space, Eliot's fingers interlaced with mine. There, curled up on the armchair with her legs tucked in and a blanket draped over her lap, sat Selene, her dusty brown-black hair slightly tangled, glowing in the morning light. Antonio was at the table, reading something on his tablet, but he looked up the second he heard our footsteps.
"Well, well," Antonio said with a slow smile, "look who decided to join the land of the living."
Selene smirked. "Let me guess. You two didn't sleep much either?"
"Not everything's about your romance novel plots, Sel," I teased, sticking my tongue out. Eliot chuckled and kissed my cheek before sitting.
Breakfast was already waiting: golden croissants, eggs seasoned with chives, juicy berries, and Antonio's infamous triple-brewed coffee. Selene poured me a cup before I even asked. She always knew.
The conversation started with light banter until Selene, sipping her mug with her eyes gleaming with curiosity, tilted her head. "So… any thoughts about the future yet?" she asked, locking eyes with me.
I blinked. "Future?"
"You know," she said, voice sing-songy. "Rings. White dresses. Names of future nieces and nephews."
Antonio leaned forward with a grin. "We've got Sasha and Alex lined up."
I nearly choked on my coffee. "Seriously?! You guys already have names?"
"We do," Selene said with a soft, almost dreamy look in her eyes. "Sasha if she's a girl. Alex if he's a boy."
Eliot laughed. "They've really thought it through."
"Selene always plans three steps ahead," I muttered fondly, poking her foot.
Selene leaned over the table, eyes sparkling. "But what about you, Ayra? Any plans brewing next door?"
I flushed red immediately. "W-we've talked. A little."
"A little?" Eliot teased.
"Fine! A lot," I admitted. "But I wasn't going to spill it here with croissant flakes on my shirt."
Antonio chuckled. "Don't be shy, we're family. You two have a beautiful home. You've got the love. What else do you need?"
I smiled, glancing at Eliot, whose fingers gently squeezed mine. "Maybe... one day, we'll name her Iris. Or if it's a boy, maybe Noen."
Selene's eyes misted over. "That's... beautiful."
"And perfect," Antonio added.
There was silence for a moment — the peaceful kind. The kind that feels like a shared secret.
"Our kids will grow up together," Selene whispered, glancing out at the garden where two houses stood side by side, divided only by a fence that didn't matter.
"Cousins, best friends, future partners-in-crime," I said.
"Just like us," Selene smiled, reaching out and squeezing my hand.
"To a lifetime of next doors and forever homes," Eliot said, lifting his mug.
We all raised our mugs in a toast.
"To futures we dared to dream," Antonio added.
Next hour,
I stood at the threshold of our home—mine and Antonio's—watching as Ayra and Eliot laced their shoes near the foyer. The quiet morning had grown into soft midday light, and the scent of Antonio's roasted coffee still lingered in the air, mingling with the citrusy perfume Ayra always wore. Everything about the moment felt familiar, yet so special.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay for lunch?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I leaned against the doorway.
Ayra looked up, smirking while zipping up her light cardigan. "We literally live next door. You'll probably send leftovers anyway."
Eliot chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'll come back for them before you even text."
Antonio appeared behind me, sliding a hand around my waist. "You two sure you can survive without us until dinner?"
Ayra rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. "We're not moving to another city, Antonio. Just across the fence."
"But it's a wide emotional fence," he teased, earning a playful elbow from me.
Eliot looked at Ayra and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle—so soft and sweet, I felt the emotion hit me like an old song.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around my sister. "Thanks for staying," I whispered, pressing my cheek to hers. "I just... I love mornings like this."
"Me too," she replied. "It's like being kids again, but with our own lives now. Our own homes. Dreams. Names for children."
We both laughed at that last part, and then I looked at Eliot.
"Take care of her," I said gently.
"Always," he replied, with so much certainty in his eyes that my heart melted a little.
Antonio offered Eliot a handshake that quickly turned into a warm bro hug. "And don't forget dinner at ours this weekend."
"Wouldn't miss it."
As they walked toward their car parked just at the edge of the drive, I stood with Antonio under the arch of vines near the gate. Ayra turned once more to wave at me—her smile radiant, her eyes reflecting a quiet peace.
"I'll be sketching this evening," she called out. "So don't be surprised if I send you something ridiculous at midnight."
"I'll keep my phone on loud," I replied, laughing.
Antonio kissed the top of my head, whispering, "They'll be back by dusk, you know that."
I nodded, leaning into him. "Yeah. It's just... home feels warmer when they're here too."
He smiled. "Then we'll keep both our doors open. Always."
As their car turned into the lane that ran between our two houses—mere steps, not miles—I realized something deeply comforting: we were all growing, living, building. But never apart. Not really.
Not when love lived right next door.