I roll my eyes and walk into the kitchen. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, it definitely is.” He finally glances over at me and grins, eyes sweeping down to take in the sight of me in his shirt. His voice lowers. “And damn, you look good like that.”
I cross to him, slipping my arms around his waist from behind, resting my cheek between his shoulder blades. “You smell like heaven.”
“That’s rosemary and butter, not me.”
“It’s all you to me.”
He lets out a soft laugh and sets the spatula down before turning in my arms. I tilt my head up, and he presses a kiss to my forehead, then my nose, then my lips. Our kiss is unhurried, the two of us savoring this moment.
“Hungry?” He asks against my mouth.
“Starving.”
“Perfect. I made omelets, fruit, and those little rosemary potatoes you liked.”
I blink. “Wait. You remembered those?”
“I remember everything,” he says simply.
He leads me to the bar stools at the kitchen island, sets aplate in front of me, pours my coffee exactly the way I like it. It feels so easy. Like this is our tenth morning back together, not our first. Like we never lost each other at all.
We eat in comfortable silence, knees brushing beneath the counter, eyes finding each other over and over again like we’re still unable to believe that this is real.
“I still can’t believe you were so close,” I say, twirling a piece of fruit on my fork. “All this time.”
“I wanted to be near you,” he says. “But I also wanted to give you space to grow. To heal. I didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t get a chance to fly.”
“You weren’t,” I look at him seriously. “You were my reason to fight for something better. You still are.”
His hand finds mine across the counter. He brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it. “Then let’s keep fighting. Together this time.”
I nod, but a tiny thread of fear weaves through the warmth of this moment. “We still have a lot to figure out,” I say quietly. “My parents… they’ll never accept this. Not really.”
Theo’s smile fades just slightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles across my skin. “I know. But we’ll take it one day at a time. We’ll be honest. We’ll be strong. And if it comes down to it… then we build a life that’s ours, anyway.”
Tears sting my eyes again, but this time I let them fall.
“We’ll be okay,” I whisper.
He nods. “We already are.”
Maybe we never stopped falling. But now… we’ve got wings.
I stand and stretch, glancing toward the art room, heart swelling with possibility.
“I should probably get back soon,” I say reluctantly. “Still have homework. Roommates. School stuff.”
He grins. “You mean you’re not moving in with me after one night?”
“Tempting,” I laugh, pulling on my coat. “But no. I’m staying in my dorm. At least for now.”
He crosses the room and pulls me close, lips brushing mine. “Then I’ll just have to make you never want to leave.”
I glance back at the art room again, the morning light spilling across that blank canvas. My fingers twitch. Not just with the urge to draw, but to begin.
Our life, our love, our future. Ours to shape however we want.
