The house felt livelier that evening than it had in months.
Flora could hear her brother's voice from the dining room steady, warm, almost unfamiliar after so many late nights spent at work. When she stepped in, she saw him sitting with someone she didn't recognize.
"Flora," her brother said, waving her closer. "Come here. I want you to meet someone."
The boy beside him looked up, offering a polite, quiet smile. His gray eyes had an odd calmness to them, sharp but unreadable.
"This is Liam, my friend's younger brother," her brother explained. "He'll be staying with us for a while. His family moved abroad, but he wanted to continue studying here. He'll join your school next week. You can help him settle in."
Flora smiled. "Of course."
Liam nodded slightly. "Nice to meet you, Flora."
His tone was even, polite almost too composed for someone his age.
He didn't speak much during dinner, but whenever he did, there was a careful thoughtfulness to his words, as if he measured every one before letting it slip. Her brother seemed fond of him, which made Flora relax a little though she couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was something about Liam she couldn't read.
---
Later that night, after dinner, Flora stepped downstairs for a glass of water.
She paused when she saw a faint light flickering from the living room.
Liam was sitting on the couch, leaning back with one hand resting on his laptop. The glow from the screen reflected against his features calm, focused, almost too still. Lines of text and symbols flickered across the display as his fingers moved quickly, typing something she couldn't quite see.
It wasn't like casual scrolling it looked precise, deliberate.
"Can't sleep?" she asked softly, walking closer.
He looked up, the screen's glow fading as he locked the display. "Just passing time," he said with a small smile. "Jet lag, I guess."
"Oh, right. You came back recently," she said, perching on the armchair nearby. "It must feel strange being back."
"Not really," Liam replied, his gaze steady. "Some places are easier to return to than to leave."
There was a quiet weight to his words that made her blink. Before she could respond, her brother's voice called her from upstairs, and she excused herself.
When she glanced back once more, Liam was looking at his laptop again the light flickering faintly across his expression, unreadable in the dim room.
---
The next morning, the house felt peaceful. It was a school holiday, so her brother had taken the day to work from home. Flora wandered into the study where Brandon was buried in files and spreadsheets.
Liam wasn't there, but his laptop was placed neatly on the edge of the desk beside a cup of untouched coffee.
"Need something, Flora?" Brandon asked without looking up.
She hesitated. "Not really. I just wanted to ask about Liam."
Brandon finally looked up, his tone softening. "He's a good kid. Just quiet. He's been staying with me for a few days before moving back here. he's helping me with some computer work. Really sharp with that stuff coding, system updates, the kind of things"
"Coding?" she repeated, intrigued.
"Yeah," Brandon chuckled. "He's practically a genius with it."
Flora smiled faintly and nodded before stepping out. She found Liam later in the living room, scrolling casually through his phone.
"Hey," she said, settling on the opposite couch. "Brandon said you're good with computers."
Liam looked up, amused. "He exaggerates."
"So, what made you come back from abroad?" she asked, half teasing. "Most people would kill to study overseas."
Liam leaned back, resting his phone on his knee. "Maybe I just missed home," he said lightly. "Or maybe I wanted a quieter life."
"That's rare," she said with a laugh. "Everyone I know dreams of leaving."
He smiled small, easy, but his eyes didn't quite match it. "Maybe I'm not like everyone."
Something in the way he said it made her heart skip. She quickly looked away. "When did you get back?"
"A week ago," he replied simply. "Still adjusting."
Their conversation drifted to simpler topics school, weather, coffee flavors until Brandon called for her again. As she stood, she caught Liam looking down at his phone, a faint reflection of code-like text dancing across the screen.
---
By evening, the house was quiet again.
The sky outside glowed faint orange, and the world felt softer than usual.
Flora felt restless her thoughts kept drifting to the boy behind the counter, the one who always seemed to steady her chaos without saying much. She missed his voice, his calm presence.
So, without thinking too much, she slipped out.
The bell above the ice-cream shop door chimed as she walked in.
Shane looked at the person entered it was already time for his shift to end but he stayed because she was here.
Craving sweets again he raised his eyesbrow as he said that
Yup I can't say no to my favorite chocolate ice cream
He didn't question it. Instead, he handed her her favorite flavor without her asking.
"You look better than last time," he said quietly, watching her carefully.
"Maybe," she murmured. "Things have been… strange lately."
"Strange doesn't always mean bad. Sometimes it's just the start of something that finally makes sense."
Flora took a small bite of her ice cream, the familiar sweetness melting across her tongue. The quiet hum of the shop wrapped around them, soft and still.
Shane leaned against the counter, watching her in silence. His usual composure was there—the steady calm, the unshakable distance—but tonight, something in his gaze felt different.
"You really shouldn't come here alone at night," he said, voice low, carrying something that wasn't quite scolding but not casual either.
She looked up, half-smiling. "Why? Are you worried about me?"
His eyes met hers then steady, deep, unreadable. "Always."
The word slipped out before he could stop it, quiet but heavy enough to make her heart stutter. She blinked, unsure if she'd imagined the softness in his tone, but by the time she looked again, he had already looked away, hiding whatever emotion had broken through.
The silence between them stretched, comfortable and fragile all at once.
When she finished, she stood, thanking him softly. Just as she turned toward the door, a hand caught her wrist.
"Next time," Shane said quietly, his grip gentle but firm, "text me before you come out this late."
His touch was warm, grounding too protective for a casual coworker, too restrained for a confession.
She smiled lightly, trying to ease the tension. "You sound like my brother."
His lips curved in a faint smile, but his eyes didn't soften. "No," he said after a moment, his voice low enough that only she could hear, "I don't."
He let go slowly, his fingers brushing hers as if reluctant to part. She didn't see the way his eyes followed her through the glass door, or how they softened the moment she disappeared into the night.
"Next time," he murmured to no one, "you won't have to come here alone."