The morning sun crept through the half-closed curtains, casting golden lines across Raka's messy bed. He blinked slowly, caught in the hazy place between sleep and reality. His chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm, and there was a faint heat still lingering in his face.
He had just woken up from a dream. But not just any dream—a weird one. An intense one.
About her.
Kirana.
He rubbed his eyes, hoping it would erase the details from his mind. But it didn't. The images stayed—vivid, strange, and way too personal for comfort.
In the dream, she was standing in the hallway, dressed in that familiar oversized T-shirt she wore around the house. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him—not her usual sarcastic grin, but a warm, almost... inviting one. Then, without a word, she had walked into his room.
And the door had quietly clicked shut behind her.
Raka groaned and pulled the pillow over his face.
Why her? Why now? Of all the dreams his brain could've come up with, it had to be about his older stepsister? He knew it wasn't technically wrong—they weren't blood-related—but still. It felt... weird. Messy. Too real.
His heart was still racing a little when he finally dragged himself out of bed. After a quick shower, he walked toward the kitchen, praying Kirana wouldn't be there yet. But fate clearly hated him that morning.
She was already sitting at the dining table, her laptop open and a half-eaten piece of toast in her hand. Her long hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, and she wore a simple beige hoodie that made her look too effortlessly pretty for Raka's poor, confused brain to handle.
"Morning," Kirana said without looking up.
"Y-Yeah... morning," Raka mumbled, sliding into the seat across from her.
She glanced up.
"...You okay?"
"Huh?" Raka blinked. "Yeah. Why?"
"You're red. Like, really red."
He instantly looked down, grabbing a piece of bread and shoving it into his mouth.
"I-I just had a weird dream," he muttered, voice muffled by toast.
Kirana raised a brow. "That weird, huh?"
"Forget it," he said quickly, eyes locked on the table. Please don't ask. Please don't ask.
But of course, she did.
"Was I in it?" she teased.
Raka nearly choked on his toast.
Kirana laughed. "Relax, I'm kidding. You're acting like you saw a ghost."
"Something like that," he muttered, still avoiding eye contact.
The more she looked at him, the more suspicious her face became. She leaned her chin on her hand, studying him with narrowed eyes.
"...Wait," she said slowly. "Was it that kind of dream?"
Raka froze.
His silence said enough.
Kirana's eyes widened for a second, then a smirk crept onto her lips. "Oh my God. You did have one."
"Kak!" Raka hissed, horrified. "Can you not say it out loud?!"
She chuckled, clearly enjoying his suffering. "Wow. First time?"
"No!" he lied.
"Sure doesn't look like it."
Raka buried his face in his hands. "Can we not talk about this?"
"Fine, fine." Kirana took a sip of her coffee, still smiling.
The rest of breakfast was a weird blur. Raka stayed quiet, trying not to look at her too long. Every time she moved or laughed or brushed her hair behind her ear, his brain kept flashing back to the dream.
He hated it.
And, somehow, he didn't.
After breakfast, Kirana packed up her laptop and stood.
"I'm gonna be in my room if you need anything," she said casually.
Raka gave a small nod. "Okay..."
She paused at the doorway. Looked over her shoulder. And then—smiling just slightly—she added, "By the way... last night?"
Raka looked up.
Kirana tilted her head, voice low.
"I dreamed about you too."
Then she disappeared down the hallway, leaving Raka frozen in place, toast halfway to his mouth.
Raka sat frozen for a long while, trying to process Kirana's last words.
> "I dreamed about you too."
The sentence kept echoing in his head like a stuck record. His eyes were still locked on the hallway where she'd just disappeared, as if expecting her to come back and say, Just kidding.
But she didn't.
She'd said it with a smirk, soft but real. And Raka... didn't know what to do with that.
He dragged himself back into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and leaned against the counter. His mind was running wild. Was it just a joke? A tease? Or did she mean it? His face still felt warm, even colder water didn't help.
---
LATER THAT DAY
The rest of the day passed strangely quiet. Kirana stayed in her room most of the time. Raka noticed—because, well, he kept walking past her door way more than necessary.
Once or twice, he paused outside, tempted to knock. But what would he even say?
"Hey, so… about that dream thing?"
Nope. Too weird.
He ended up lying on the living room sofa, aimlessly flipping through Netflix. But nothing could hold his attention.
At around 4 PM, Kirana finally emerged from her room. She wore a simple oversized T-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled up into a messy bun. She looked fresh out of a nap, or maybe just tired of staring at her laptop.
Raka glanced up from the sofa, immediately alert. "Hey…"
Kirana raised a brow as she walked past him toward the fridge. "Still alive?"
"Barely," he muttered. "TV's boring when I'm thinking too much."
She turned, holding a bottle of cold tea. "Thinking too much about what?"
Raka stared at her for a second too long before replying, "Homework. Duh."
Kirana didn't press further. She sat down across from him, opened her tea, and took a long sip.
Silence settled between them, but it wasn't awkward—not like earlier at breakfast. It was... loaded. Like both were waiting for the other to bring something up.
"So," Raka said finally, pretending to be casual. "You... really had a dream about me?"
Kirana didn't answer right away. She just sipped her drink again, eyes on the TV even though it was on mute.
When she spoke, her tone was teasing. "Maybe. Maybe not."
Raka leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. "Come on. That's unfair. You dropped a bomb like that and just left."
She smiled slightly. "You looked like you were about to explode. It was cute."
Raka rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. "Okay, but seriously. Was it like... a funny dream? A weird one?"
Kirana looked at him, and this time her eyes softened. "It wasn't weird."
That was all she said.
Raka's throat went dry.
He swallowed and leaned back, kicking one foot up on the coffee table. "You're making it hard for me to act normal, y'know."
"Good," Kirana said, and stood up.
"Wait—where are you going?"
"Shower. I feel sticky," she replied, stretching lazily. "Don't overthink things while I'm gone."
"Too late," Raka muttered under his breath.
---
NIGHTTIME
By nighttime, the weird tension between them hadn't really gone away. But it had changed into something... quieter. Softer.
Kirana cooked dinner—nothing fancy, just instant noodles with eggs—and Raka helped without being asked. They stood side by side in the kitchen, occasionally brushing arms, but neither of them moved away. Neither mentioned the dream again, but it was hanging there, just out of reach, like a note in the air that hadn't resolved.
When they finally sat down to eat, Raka kept stealing glances at her. She looked peaceful, scrolling through her phone with one hand, using chopsticks with the other.
He found himself staring until she caught him.
"What?" she said, without looking up.
"Nothing."
"You're being weird."
"You started it."
Kirana grinned. "Don't blame me just 'cause your brain's doing gymnastics."
Raka set his chopsticks down. "Fine. Maybe I am being weird. I mean… I never thought you'd say something like that."
"Like what?"
"That you dreamed about me."
Kirana finally looked up, her eyes thoughtful. "Well, I never thought you'd look at me like that."
Raka blinked. "Like what?"
"Like I'm someone you don't know how to handle."
He went quiet for a second. "Maybe because... you're not easy to handle."
"Is that a complaint?"
"No. Just a fact."
Their eyes met, and the world went silent again.
---
LATER THAT NIGHT
Kirana stood at the sink, brushing her teeth, when she heard a knock on the bathroom door.
"It's me," Raka said from outside.
She opened the door a crack, toothbrush still in her mouth. "What?"
Raka leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Just saying goodnight."
She narrowed her eyes. "You came all the way here to say that?"
"I didn't want to end the day awkward."
Kirana rinsed her mouth and stepped out, now face to face with him in the hallway.
"I didn't think it was awkward," she said.
Raka tilted his head. "You sure? You're not secretly avoiding me?"
"Maybe I'm giving you space to think."
"About?"
She looked up at him. "About whether you want things to stay the same… or not."
His chest tightened.
And before he could even find an answer, Kirana smiled—small and unreadable—and walked past him.
Raka turned to watch her retreat to her room.
He stood there, pulse racing, until he heard her door click shut.
---
That night, Raka lay in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling. The dream from the night before was still clear in his mind, and now… he didn't know which parts were fantasy anymore. Her words, her looks, her smile—everything blurred the line.
Kirana dreamed about me too.
Maybe they were both standing at the edge of something.
Something they weren't sure they should cross.
But neither of them had taken a step back.
And neither of them wanted to.