“This is it,” I said, watching him carefully. “What do you think, cherub?”
He leaned forward slightly, hands braced on his thighs as he took it in.
“I love it,” he breathed, like he was afraid saying it too loudly might make it disappear.
Thank God.“Let’s get you inside then.”
I got out first and rounded the car, opening his door and offering my hand. He hesitated just a beat before taking it, his grip still careful, not quite trusting yet. I didn’t comment on it.
We walked up the short cement path together, hand-in-hand. Once we reached the front door, I let go of him, unlocked it, pushed it open, and stepped aside to let him enter first.
Elior paused on the threshold.
Inside, the house was quiet and clean, sunlight spilling across dark hardwood floors. To the right was a modest living room with a couch and a throw blanket neatly folded over the arm. And off to the left was the kitchen, the fridge and pantry full.
He stepped in slowly, like he was testing whether the floor would hold him.
“Oh,” he whispered.
I watched his shoulders tense, then ease. Watched him take it all in with wide, uncertain eyes.
“You can take your time,” I said. “There’s no rush.”
He nodded and wandered a few steps farther, fingers brushing the back of the couch, the edge of the counter. Proof it was real. Proof it wasn’t going to vanish if he blinked.
“Do you want the tour?” I asked.
“Yes,”he said quickly, then blushed. “Please.”
I showed him the living room first, then the kitchen, then the back door that led to a small screened-in patio. He listened closely, nodding along, committing it all to memory with a fragile sort of excitement.
Then I led him down the short hallway.
“This is the bathroom,” I said, opening the door. “And—” I gestured to the last door at the end, “—the bedroom.”
I opened it.
The room was simple—a large bed with clean sheets, a dresser, and two nightstands.
Elior stepped inside, then stopped, his ears turning red. “There’s… um,” he said, staring at the bed. “There’s only one.”
I leaned against the doorframe, arms folding loosely. “Sure is.”
He swallowed, hands twisting together. “But… we’re not married.”
The words came out so earnest, so sincerely concerned, that they caught me off guard. I laughed—a low, surprised chuckle that slipped out before I could stop it.
Elior startled, eyes flicking to me as his ears reddened. “I-I didn’t mean—”
“Hey,” I said gently, straightening. “It’s okay, baby. I know what you meant.”
He ducked his head, mortified. “I mean, I know we’ve shared before, but—but that was different.”
“You’re so fucking adorable.”
Elior’s head snapped up, eyes wide, blush deepening instantly. “I—”
I held up a hand, chuckling softly. “Sorry. That slipped. I didn’t mean it like…” I stepped away from the doorframe, giving him space again. “I just mean—you’re earnest. It’s a good thing.”
