I was fine.
I was trying to be.
The moment i opened my eyes that morning, I told myself, okay, yesterday was weird, but today will be normal.
I forced a deep breath and stared at the ceiling like it would hand me a new purpose if i stared long enough.
Last night… that stare between Ken and Celine.
The way their names sat too closely in every sentence people made.
The way they didn't even have to touch to be obvious. I hated that i noticed. I hated more that i cared.
But today, I promised myself i wouldn't spiral. I wasn't going to give it space in my head.
So i did something different.
I went to the kitchen.
Which, to anyone else, might sound basic, but to me, it was brave. I never cooked. I mean, ever.
I lived on takeouts and 3-minute noodles like they were gourmet. But i was trying. I thought maybe if i did something unfamiliar, something i had control over, my thoughts would finally shut up.
I chopped onions first.
And then garlic.
And then i cut my finger.
Dropping the knife with a loud clang.
It wasn't even a deep cut, just enough to sting and humiliate me.
I went straight to the bathroom to rinse it, already cringing at the thought of cleaning the mess i made. I turned the faucet on with my elbow, water hitting my skin like tiny shocks, and i sighed.
Then i reached for the door to go back—
It didn't open.
I blinked.
Turned the knob again.
And again.
I forgot.
I forgot the bathroom lock was broken.
It only opened from the outside.
"No, no, no—" I muttered, twisting the knob harder, knocking now, even though no one was there. I was locked in.
And suddenly… the weight came crashing in.
Not just the stupid door. Not the burnt food probably still on the stove. Not even the sting on my finger.
It was everything.
Everything that i was pretending not to feel.
I slid down the wall, knees to my chest. The cold tiles felt like they belonged to someone else's life. Someone small. Someone who failed. Someone whose name didn't mean anything good anymore.
I cried.
Quietly at first. Then messily. Like all the pressure i was ignoring just decided to drown me in one go. I didn't even try to stop it. Maybe part of me wanted to see if it would end.
I didn't know how long i stayed like that.
It could've been ten minutes.
Could've been an hour.
Then—
I heard footsteps.
A knock on my door.
I didn't move.
I stayed still, not wanting to say anything.
Then I heard it again. This time, someone jiggled the knob.
"Cass?"
Ken.
He sounded worried.
"Cass, something smells like it's burning, are you okay?"
I panicked and slammed my hand against the door. "Here! I'm here!"
The lock clicked from the outside. And then the door opened.
Ken.
His eyes widened when he saw me sitting on the floor, red-eyed and shaking slightly. He didn't say anything. He just crouched down and held my arm like he didn't know where else to begin.
I didn't think. I didn't plan it.
I just threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.
Tightly.
Like i needed to hold on to something or I'd fall even deeper.
He didn't speak.
He just let me stay there.
I felt his hand on my back, soft, slow, not demanding anything. Not asking questions.
Just staying.
Like maybe he understood without needing to know all the words.
Eventually, he pulled back a little.
"Come on," he said gently. "You should sit somewhere more comfortable."
He helped me up and walked me to the small dining table in my unit.
I sat down.
He looked like he was about to head back out, probably to deal with whatever was burning in my mess of a kitchen, but i didn't let him.
I reached for his wrist.
He turned.
"Don't go," I said. Quiet. Almost like i was ashamed for needing him.
He didn't answer.
Not with words.
So i stood.
And i kissed him.
This time… he kissed me back.
Soft at first. Almost unsure. His lips hesitated like he was trying to understand the moment before sinking into it.
But he didn't pull away.
Not yet.
I closed my eyes and held onto the feel of it, not just his mouth but the way his fingers slightly gripped my waist, the way his chest moved with mine, the way everything else just faded.
For a second, I forgot the mess.
The kiss tasted like something honest.
And then, just as quickly, I felt him pause.
He pulled away, eyes lingering on mine for a second too long.
Like he was remembering something.
Like he wanted to say something but didn't.
"I should go," he said.
I didn't answer.
I didn't ask why.
I just nodded and stepped back as he walked to the door.
He didn't look back.
I didn't stop him.
But the air was thicker now.
Something had changed.
And i didn't know what to do with it.
So i sat there, still bleeding slightly from my finger, lips still tingling, heart still heavy.
And i lit another cigarette.
Because i couldn't cry again.
And i didn't know how else to stay calm.