It was hesitant at first — a slow press of lips that melted into something more as he leaned forward, deepening it with the kind of desperation that could only come from holding back too long. Her fingers curled into his shirt, his hand cradled her jaw, and in that small, quiet apartment, their hearts beat loud enough to drown out everything else.
When they pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Leo gave a small half-laugh, forehead pressed to hers.
"I wasn't planning on falling for a girl who lectures me about rabbit food," he murmured.
Aurora giggled, chest rising and falling as she tried to gather her voice. "And I wasn't planning on kissing a guy who keeps appearing out of nowhere."
He smirked. "Fate's funny like that."
She turned her head away blushing.
He looked at him for a moment longer, then nudged his arm. "You know… it's late. And you've been helping me for hours. If you want… you can stay. Just tonight."
Aurora's eyes flickered on him then on the couch behind. But then she nodded, soft and serious.
"Only if I get the couch."
"You're not getting the couch," he grinned.
The city outside was dim and blurred, distant in its chaos. Inside Leo's apartment, everything was slow, still, and laced in the golden hush of a single bedside lamp.
Aurora lay curled up on the left side of the bed, wrapped in his fluffy grey blanket. Her cheek rested against her palm, eyes fluttering closed one second, and wide open the next—because Leo was beside her, stretched lazily on his back, one arm flung over his head, and that damned smirk dancing on his lips.
"Y'know," he began, his voice husky from the quiet, "I was almost starting to think I was finally getting exclusive rights to your attention…"
Aurora blinked, rolling her face toward him, one brow arched. "Almost?"
Leo turned his head to her, that signature glint in his eyes. "Mhm. But no—turns out I've got quite the competition. First Mochi," he pointed dramatically toward the little bunny sleeping peacefully, by finding himself a comfortable- corner. "Then Rhea and Vanessa, your café Roost fam... and now?" He feigned a dramatic sigh. "Now Sister Elira joins the race for your time."
Aurora snorted, throwing a light pillow at him which he caught with theatrical flair.
"She's been in my life for years!" she laughed, her voice soft and glowing. "Actually... all of them came into picture before you did. You're the latest arrival, acting like you own me… already." She paused before she split out the last word.
At this instant she knew, she messed up. Now she knows for sure what would be coming next! But she wasn't afraid, rather looked forward to it, even if that feels wrong.
"Oh?" Leo rolled toward her now, propping himself up on one elbow. "So, I don't own even a couple-of hours of your day?"
"Exactly," Aurora said, nose in the air, teasing.
Leo leaned in just slightly. "Then I better make sure I do own you-n your time."
Blood rushed and painted her face red similarly as if a a paint brush with red paint on it, is put into water.
His voice dropped that half-step lower, the kind of shift that made Aurora's heart jump. His eyes searched hers, playful but softened at the edges.
His hand reached up and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"I don't know, maybe…" she whispered before she could stop herself.
The quiet that followed wasn't awkward—it was warm, golden, and pressing. Leo's gaze dropped to her lips, and his thumb lightly brushed her jaw.
"Maybe?" He leaned in.
The kiss was slow and certain. No fireworks. No chaos. Just soft breaths shared in between, the weight of the day fading under the stillness of that single moment.
When they parted, Aurora looked at him, cheeks glowing like the sunset her eyes resembled. "You will own a tiny space in my schedule," she mumbled.
Leo laughed into her neck, muffled and utterly content. "But first in ranking. Admit it."
Aurora hummed. "Maybe."
They lay there for a while, tangled gently in warmth and words, legs brushing, hearts thudding softly like lullabies. Outside, the world spun madly on. But here—in this little apartment of messy shelves, half-finished projects, and a sleepy bunny—it was just the two of them. No rush. No chaos.
Just this.