Ken wasn't in his apartment tonight.
I noticed it the moment i peeked through the blinds of my living room window, the one facing his balcony.
His curtains were drawn, and the lights were off. Strange.
He always left at least the kitchen light on.
It was a weird thing i had started noticing after spending so much time doing… well, nothing. Just staring. Thinking.
I lit another cigarette and opened my sliding door for some air. The wind was softer tonight. Kind of like the calm before something. I didn't know what.
I thought maybe i should go for a walk.
Clear my head or pretend like i could.
I grabbed my hoodie, stuffed my keys into the pocket, and stepped outside.
The apartment complex had this outdoor court near the back gate, partly hidden by tall shrubs and half-functioning lamp posts.
There weren't many people tonight, just one, actually.
Ken.
He was alone on the court, shooting hoops. His hair was a little messy, shirt damp with sweat. Every movement was quiet, controlled.
But there was something about how he played, like he was trying to get rid of something that wouldn't leave.
And there she was.
Celine.
Sitting on one of the benches, legs crossed, quietly watching him like she had every right to be there.
I don't know what came over me, but i walked straight to her.
"You like him?" I asked, my voice calm but my pulse absolutely not.
She looked up at me slowly, eyes unreadable. She smiled not smug, not sweet either. Just… knowing.
Then she stood up, brushed imaginary dust off her jeans, and said, "You'll know when it's your turn," before walking off.
What the hell did that mean?
I was still trying to make sense of it when i heard footsteps, quick, uneven ones, then voices. Male. Loud.
I turned to look and felt my stomach drop.
It was those three guys. The ones from before. The ones Ken clearly didn't want to see again.
They had that same look in their eyes.
Like they came with an agenda.
Ken saw them too, his grip tightening around the ball. But he didn't run. He didn't even move.
I stepped forward instinctively.
I should've stopped. Should've thought.
"Hey," I said, placing myself between them and Ken. "Leave him alone."
One of them greasy hair, puffy face laughed, low and mockingly. "Look who's here. NOVA5's sweetheart."
Another stepped closer, way too close. "Didn't know you're into charity cases now, Cassandra."
He reached out like he was about to touch my face.
But before his hand could even graze me—
CRACK.
Ken's fist connected with the guy's jaw so fast I almost didn't see it coming.
It didn't stop there. The second guy lunged, and Ken tackled him back with enough force to send them both stumbling.
That's when i grabbed a loose plank, some wooden bar that probably fell from the fence.
And i hit the third one. Hard.
"Ken!" I shouted, yanking his arm. "Come on!"
We ran.
We ran through the path between the buildings, through the narrow shortcut behind the laundry room, and didn't stop until we were inside my apartment, door locked behind us.
He was breathing hard. So was i.
Blood trickled down his lip, and there was a gash on his temple, but all i could feel was relief that we got away.
"Sit," I said, pushing him gently toward the stool by the kitchen counter.
He didn't protest.
I grabbed the first aid kit under the sink. My hands were shaking as i dabbed alcohol onto the wounds, especially the one above his eye.
"You're always getting hurt because of me," he muttered.
I didn't answer.
"Cass," he said again, this time more quietly.
I looked up.
His gaze burned right through me.
I touched his lip. Wiped the blood away.
And then i kissed him.
Not like before.
This time, I meant it.
And this time… he kissed me back again.
There was heat, yes, but there was also something terrifying in the way our lips moved, like we were dancing around a question we both didn't want to answer. Something unsaid, unstable, raw.
When we pulled away, we didn't speak for a while.
He sat there.
I stood in front of him.
Both of us just… staring.
Then he asked it.
The one thing i wasn't ready for.
"What are we?"
I blinked.
"What?" I whispered.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and steady. "I'm asking what this is. Between us. That kiss. The ones before. The looks. The way you act like you don't care and then do."
I couldn't speak.
Because the truth was, I didn't know.
I didn't know what we were, and i hated myself for not having an answer.
So i stayed silent.
And that silence? It was everything.
It filled the space between us like smoke. Lingering. Suffocating.
Ken stood up.
I thought he'd shout. Say something cold or maybe even call me a coward.
But he didn't.
He just nodded once, looked me in the eyes, and walked toward the door.
"I hope you figure it out," he said quietly.
And then he left.