Chapter 105: Noon Bloom
Noon, The New Apartment
By the time the sun reached its peak, the apartment had settled into something resembling calm. The walls no longer echoed with the noise of strangers; instead, they hummed softly with the quiet of two people learning to exist in the same space. It wasn't peace, not quite. But it was no longer survival either.
It was… something in between.
Aria stood by the kitchen counter, sleeves pushed up, wrist - deep in a familiar rhythm. The bread she'd stashed from their earlier haul was halfway sliced, and the marbled cut of steak sat defrosting on the counter, glistening in the sunlight. She moved like she had done this before — because she had, many times. In different kitchens, under different roofs. The act of preparing food had become her anchor. A way to keep her mind from spinning too far into the chaos.
But here — this apartment, this moment — felt different. Warmer, maybe. Not safer. But softer.
Selene hadn't spoken much since the early hours. She'd spent most of the morning stretched out across the old couch, boots discarded, shirt riding halfway up her abdomen, one arm draped over her eyes. Aria had stolen more than one glance, though she pretended not to. There was something fragile about her like this, resting where no one could see her but Aria.
The pan sizzled sharply as the steak hit metal. Garlic followed, releasing a scent that immediately filled the space — savory, grounding. Aria moved quickly, plating the bread, searing both sides, her hands more confident than she felt. It helped her breathe. It helped her not think too hard about the fact that Selene — Selene — had cleaned her wound earlier like it meant something.
The memory of Selene's fingers ghosting over her collarbone lingered longer than it should have.
She was plating the food when Selene appeared behind her.
"You know," Selene murmured, voice rough from sleep, "if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."
Aria didn't flinch. Not this time. She handed her a plate. "If I was, you'd already be on the floor."
Selene grinned, slow and dangerous, her eyes still heavy with sleep but gleaming with something far more awake. "Is that a promise?"
"It's a warning," Aria replied, turning back to grab her own plate.
Selene sat without being told. This was a new pattern — obedience that wore sarcasm like armor. But Aria noticed how quickly she complied. The devil - may - care posture, yes, but underneath it, she always listened when Aria spoke.
They ate in near silence, save for the soft clink of forks and the sound of distant city wind pressing against old windows. It wasn't awkward. It was careful.
Aria watched the way Selene chewed — thoughtful, almost reverent — and tried not to feel too much about it.
"This is…" Selene trailed off mid-bite, eyes narrowing at her plate. "…actually unfair."
"What is?"
"You. Making food like this. In a place like this."
"Didn't realize survival cuisine came with critique."
Selene leaned back in her chair, licking her finger with maddening nonchalance. "This isn't survival. This is seduction dressed in garlic and grilled bread."
Aria rolled her eyes, but a flush crept up her throat. "You're hallucinating."
"Am I?" Selene arched an eyebrow, lazy and smug. "Tell me something, Aria. Do you always cook like this for people who follow you into fire?"
Aria hesitated. "No."
Selene grinned wider. "So I'm special."
"You're insufferable."
"But special."
Aria glanced at her, caught between exasperation and something else. Something far more dangerous. "You're injured. You need protein."
Selene leaned across the table slowly, her voice lowering into something half - sincere. "I think I need more than protein."
"Then find it yourself."
"I did." She held Aria's gaze a beat too long. "She's sitting right across from me."
Silence fell again, heavier this time. Not awkward — just charged. Like standing too close to an open flame.
Aria picked at her bread, suddenly very aware of how small the apartment felt. Of how close their knees were under the table. Of how her heartbeat had sped up and refused to slow down.
"You keep talking like that," she said carefully, "you're going to confuse yourself."
"I've been confused since I met you," Selene answered, too fast. Too raw.
Aria looked at her then, really looked. The lines of exhaustion. The healing cut near her temple. The bruises she still hadn't spoken of. There was something breaking underneath Selene's charm. Something not yet named.
"You don't need to do this," Aria said softly. "You don't have to pretend you're not tired."
Selene didn't answer immediately. When she did, her voice was quieter than before. "I don't know how to stop pretending."
They sat there, the sun climbing higher through the window behind Aria's shoulder. The light hit Selene's face, and for the first time, Aria saw it unmasked. Not fierce. Not smug. Just… human.
And somehow, that was worse.
She reached across the table before she could stop herself, brushing a stray crumb from Selene's cheek. Her fingers paused, lingered.
Selene didn't pull away.
"I don't think you're pretending," Aria said. "Not when you're like this."
Selene's eyes darkened. "Like what?"
"Real."
The word fell into the space between them like a stone in still water.
Selene's smile returned, faint this time. Almost sad. "Then I'm in trouble."
Aria withdrew her hand slowly. "We both are."
The plates sat empty between them. The light shifted, soft and gold, painting them in quiet confession. There was no kiss. No dramatic moment. Just the stillness of something blooming.
Not love. Not yet. But something creeping toward it.
And for now, they let it.
Selene broke the quiet first, nudging her plate aside with the edge of her wrist. "I haven't had a real meal in weeks. You just made steak taste like a freaking love letter."
Aria snorted, standing to start cleaning. "You're dramatic."
"I'm wounded."
"You're annoying."
Selene watched her move, then slowly stood as well, coming up behind her. Not touching. Not crowding. Just there.
"You're hard to ignore," Selene said, voice low.
Aria looked over her shoulder. "That's not a compliment."
"It wasn't meant to be. It's a problem."
Aria's lips twitched. "Then go solve it."
Selene stepped closer, until the heat of her body brushed Aria's back. "I'm trying."
Aria turned, her breath catching slightly at their proximity. Selene was taller like this. Shadowed in sunlight, wounded and raw and unguarded.
Their eyes met. Neither flinched.
Selene leaned in, slow, unhurried. Not asking. Not demanding.
Aria didn't move.
The kiss didn't explode. It wasn't fireworks or thunder. It was quieter. A slow exhale. Warm lips and the slight tremble of restraint. Selene kissed like she was afraid of breaking something.
And Aria kissed back like she already had.
When they finally pulled apart, Selene didn't speak. Her forehead rested against Aria's, breath shallow, eyes shut.
"I don't know what this is," she murmured.
Aria's fingers found Selene's wrist. "You don't have to know."
Selene nodded once, barely a movement. "Okay."
And just like that, something unnamed settled between them. Not heavy. Not frightening. Just real.
Selene took a step back, rubbing the back of her neck like she'd just admitted a crime. "If you make lunch like that every time, I'm going to start thinking you're in love with me."
Aria smirked, brushing past her to rinse the pan. "Then maybe I'll make lunch less often."
"Cruel."
"Necessary."
Selene flopped back on the couch, arms over her head, groaning into a pillow. "I'm still hungry."
"You ate like a wolf."
"I bleed like one too."
Aria glanced at her, a small smile tugging at her mouth. "Fine. I'll make something else. But you're helping this time."
Selene groaned again, but she sat up. And when she walked over, she didn't grab a knife. She reached for the vegetables, looking at Aria like she was something rare and sacred.
And Aria, against her better judgment, let her.
They stood side by side in a borrowed kitchen, in a half - broken world, with the sunlight painting their shadows onto the walls.
And for a moment, they forgot to be anything but human.