The airport was busy that morning, a constant hum of voices blending with the rolling sound of suitcases and the distant crackle of announcements in multiple languages. Andre walked between his mother and the tall stranger who had so suddenly been introduced into their lives. The stranger with sharp eyes, a quiet air, and a presence that seemed to occupy more space than it should — Zhen Yichen.
They didn't leave yesterday due to some stuffs that was needed to be fixed according to his mom. So I move this next day which is today.
Zhen Yichen, the man that is mom introduced to him as his new dad. Andre didn't look at him. He didn't even want to.
He kept his eyes forward, holding tightly to his carry-on bag as if the small act of gripping something familiar would keep him from feeling how fast things were changing.
Leaving Italy.
Leaving the streets he knew, the smell of his favorite bakery, school even if there was nothing interesting about it.
All because of him.
Andre's jaw tensed. He didn't understand why his mom had agreed to marry this man — why she had agreed to uproot them entirely to follow him to a different country. His mom, who had always been his. Now there was someone else she seemed close to. Someone who looked at her like they shared secrets. And the fact he doesn't know this person nor has he seen his mom make sneaky movements as if she was seeing someone.
They boarded the plane without much conversation. Celia sat by the window, Andre in the middle, and Yichen on the aisle. The arrangement felt suffocating.
Andre folded his arms and leaned toward his mom, refusing to acknowledge the man beside him. Even when the flight attendant came by with a warm smile, asking what they'd like to drink, Andre answered without looking up from the magazine he wasn't even reading.
"Water," he said curtly.
From the corner of his vision, he saw Yichen glance at him briefly before answering for himself in a low, even tone. "Coffee. Black."
The first hour of the flight passed in silence. Celia read a novel, occasionally reaching over to adjust the blanket on her son's lap. Yichen worked on his tablet, but every so often, his gaze would shift — not to Celia, but to the boy beside her.
It wasn't just that Andre was beautiful — though he was. It was the eyes.
Silver. Unusual, almost luminous in the cabin's dim lighting. They reflected the light in a way Yichen had never seen before. For a man who rarely noticed such things, the realization was almost unsettling. He didn't look at people like this. He didn't get… curious. But with this boy, there was a quiet pull — as if something in those pale eyes contained both frost and light.
Andre caught him looking once and turned away sharply, his resentment flashing through in a subtle glare. Yichen didn't react outwardly, but his thoughts lingered.
They were strangers bound by Celia, but Yichen knew — instinctively — that he would end up knowing more about this boy than either of them expected.
When the flight attendants dimmed the lights for passengers to rest, Celia dozed off first, her head turned toward the window. Andre shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a position that didn't make him feel trapped between the two adults.
Then something strange happened.
Yichen, who rarely slept on flights — who, in fact, barely slept at all — leaned back slightly, his gaze lingering on the boy's silver eyes as they flickered toward the seat in front of him. He wasn't smiling, but something about the steady, quiet presence at his side loosened the constant tightness in his chest.
By the time Andre finally pulled the blanket up to his chin and rested his head against his mom's shoulder, Yichen's breathing had deepened. His eyes closed.
When the plane landed hours later in Z City, Andre was the first to wake. He turned slightly, and for a moment, he froze.
The man beside him — this cold, unreadable stranger — was asleep. Peacefully.
Andre didn't dwell on it. He looked away quickly, nudging his mom awake so they could prepare to disembark. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered why the sight felt… strange.
The air outside the terminal in Z City was colder than Italy's autumn. Andre shivered and pulled his coat tighter around him. The city smelled different — sharper, more metallic, as if the air itself carried a kind of authority.
Yichen walked ahead, his long strides eating the distance toward the black car waiting for them. His posture was straight, almost military, but there was a quiet awareness in the way he glanced back once — just to see if Celia and the boy were keeping up.
The car ride to their new home was mostly silent. Celia tried to make small talk about the weather and the city's skyline, but Andre only hummed in response. Yichen didn't speak at all, though his gaze occasionally shifted to the reflection in the window — the faint outline of silver eyes staring stubbornly ahead.
When they reached the house, Celia guided her son inside. Yichen lingered at the door for a moment, watching them walk down the hallway together.
The boy still didn't like him. That much was obvious. But that wasn't what stayed in Yichen's mind.
It was the way those eyes had looked under the soft cabin lights, and the inexplicable truth he'd already learned about himself — he could fall asleep beside this boy.
And that, for a man like him, was not normal.