That afternoon, rain fell softly against the windows.
The kind of rain that made the world slow down. Gentle. Steady. Like it was asking everyone to pause and listen.
Hazel stood by the window with a book in hand, though she hadn't turned a page in ten minutes.
Adrian had disappeared into his study hours ago. Probably working. Probably avoiding unnecessary human contact like he usually did.
She didn't blame him.
This whole "married strangers" thing still hovered between them like a fog neither of them knew how to clear.
But today had felt… different.
The coffee. The smile. The walk.
And now the silence between them didn't feel heavy—it felt open. Like space waiting to be filled.
Hazel sighed, finally closing the book.
She wandered toward the hallway and stood outside Adrian's study door.
She stared at it.
Would he mind?
Would she be bothering him?
She raised her hand… and knocked.
A pause.
Then—"Come in."
She blinked.
He never said that.
Hazel opened the door slowly.
Adrian was at his desk, sleeves rolled up, glasses on—looking like a very brooding Greek god who also understood spreadsheets.
He looked up as she entered.
Her heart skipped. She hated that.
"I was, um, wondering…" Hazel cleared her throat. "Do you maybe want a break? I could make tea. Or… we could play a board game?" She winced at her own suggestion. "Wow, that sounded dumber out loud."
To her surprise, Adrian stood.
"I could use a break," he said simply.
Hazel froze. "Wait, really?"
He walked toward her, stopping just a foot away. His eyes held hers. Steady. Quiet.
Then, to her absolute shock—
He reached out.
His fingers brushed hers.
Not an accidental touch. Not a fleeting moment.
He was holding her hand.
Hazel forgot how to breathe.
Adrian's touch was warm. Solid. Present.
They stood there for a beat too long.
Then he let go.
"I'll be in the lounge," he said softly. "You can pick the game."
And just like that, he walked away.
Hazel stood frozen in the doorway, one hand still slightly raised like she didn't want to lose the sensation.
She'd touched him before—accidentally, awkwardly.
But this…
This was the first time he'd reached for her.
Of his own will.