She turned quickly, wanting to be sure of whose voice had broken through the quiet. And there he was—Ivan—walking toward her. His steps were unhurried, steady, and his hands rested neatly behind his back as if he had all the time in the world.
When he reached close enough, his eyes flicked upward to the sky before finding hers.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, his tone low and gentle.
Jane's throat felt a little tight, but she managed a whisper soft enough for only him to catch.
"It is."
For a second, Ivan just watched her. He wasn't only looking at her face; he was noticing the way her shoulders tensed, the way her eyes shifted quickly, the nervous energy humming off her. She was shy. Nervous. And he saw it all.
"You okay?" he asked after a moment.
Jane blinked, her brows pulling slightly as if she wasn't sure what he meant. Ivan tilted his head a little, clarifying in that lazy, warm voice that Jane couldn't help but love.
"I mean… here. Everything. You had to come here all of a sudden. And what happened to your dorm… kinda sucks. Just wanna make sure you're okay and comfortable."
His words stretched over her like a soft blanket, and for a moment Jane could only stand there, caught between the comfort of his tone and the heaviness of his question.
"Yeah," she said finally, her voice small. "I'm kinda okay. I'll get to know you guys and hopefully, I can start adjusting…" She trailed off, her doubt obvious. Her gaze lowered, and her voice dipped even quieter. "I don't know. Maybe just be on my own till the problem at the dorm is fixed."
Ivan's lips curved into a smile, a quiet one, but real. There was something in her uncertainty that he found… refreshing. Endearing. She was different. Different in a good way.
Without warning, he reached out and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. His touch was steady, not heavy, but grounding. "You haven't had dinner," he said suddenly.
Jane blinked up at him, caught off guard. She hadn't expected that.
Ivan chuckled lightly at her expression. "Getting comfortable around everyone? Don't worry. I'm fun to be around."
Then came that smile again. The one that lit up his entire face, that made the edges of the world blur for her. Jane tried to keep her composure, but inside—inside she was crying. His smile was too gorgeous. Almost unfair.
Before she could even decide what to say, Ivan gently tugged her by the wrist and led her back inside the house. His movements were easy, natural, like he'd done this a thousand times. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow as he moved around, and he didn't hesitate for a second.
"Sit," he told her, motioning toward a chair. "Just watch."
Jane sat down quietly, folding her hands in her lap as her eyes followed him.
Ivan moved with the kind of calm confidence that made every little action look like a performance. He pulled ingredients with ease, set out the pan, poured, flipped—every motion fluid. And as he worked, Jane couldn't help but stare.
The sight was a masterpiece. The way he looked under the warm light, the way he carried himself so casually yet so sure… It made her think one thing over and over: God really did a nice job making this man.