The shop felt colder after the stranger left, as if the air itself had absorbed the unease they carried. Min kept glancing at Kei, hoping for an explanation, but Kei moved with his usual precision, placing books back on the shelves as if nothing had happened.
"Kei," Min finally whispered, "are you going to tell me what was written on that paper?"
Kei looked at him, his eyes softer now. "Later."
That single word should have frustrated Min, but instead, it made him swallow hard. He knew Kei wasn't brushing him off—he was protecting him. Still, the silence between them weighed heavy.
When the last customer left, Airi closed the shutters with a hum, clearly unbothered. "Well, that was an odd evening. But hey, at least sales were good!" she chirped. Then she stretched. "I'll head upstairs to rest. Don't stay up too late, you two."
Her footsteps faded, leaving the shop quiet.
Kei leaned against the counter, sighing as if he had been holding it in all day. Min moved closer, uncertain, but the moment his hand brushed Kei's sleeve, Kei reached out and pulled him into his arms.
The embrace was firm, almost desperate. Min blinked, startled, then slowly rested his head against Kei's shoulder.
"You really won't tell me?" Min murmured.
"Not yet," Kei replied, voice low. "But… whatever it is, I'll handle it. You don't have to carry it too."
Min bit his lip. "I want to, though. I don't want you standing there all alone."
For a moment, Kei didn't answer. Then, with a quiet laugh, he pressed his forehead against Min's. "You're stubborn."
"And you like that," Min whispered back, his lips curling into a shy smile.
The tension in Kei's shoulders eased, his grip softening but not releasing. "I do."
The world outside might have been filled with mist and unanswered questions, but here, in the warmth of Kei's arms, Min felt safe. The unknown could wait—just for a little longer.
To be continued....