The morning sunlight poured through the window, warm and soft. Aria woke to the smell of coffee and quiet humming from the kitchen. She stretched lazily, a small smile curving her lips — she had almost forgotten where she was.
Ethan.
She sat up quickly, brushing her hair away from her face. He was standing by the counter, making toast, his sleeves rolled up, his bruises faintly visible but healing.
"Good morning," she said softly.
He turned, surprised. "You're awake. You should rest more."
She grinned. "And let you make breakfast alone? Not happening."
He raised an eyebrow, pretending to sound annoyed. "You're my guest, Aria. Guests don't help."
"Then kick me out," she teased, stepping closer until she was beside him. Their shoulders brushed lightly, and Ethan's breath caught for a second. She noticed it — and smiled to herself.
For a few moments, neither spoke. Just the faint crackle of toast, the smell of butter, and the calm silence of two hearts that had been through storms now learning to beat side by side.
After breakfast, Aria insisted on taking him out. "You've been locked in this house for too long," she said, pulling him toward the door.
"Aria, I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You need air. And I need sunlight."
He finally gave in, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. "You're impossible."
"Good," she said proudly. "Then it means I'm real."
They walked down the quiet street, the sound of their steps mixing with the hum of the city. Aria bought two sodas from a nearby stand, handing him one.
"Do you always boss people around like this?" Ethan asked, amused.
"Only the ones I care about," she said.
He turned to look at her, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. The sunlight caught her hair, and her eyes reflected something he couldn't name — something soft and wild all at once.
He smiled faintly. "You've changed."
"Maybe I just found something worth changing for," she replied.
They stopped by the park near the school. Kids were laughing in the distance, a stray breeze carrying the scent of flowers. Aria sat on the bench, tilting her head toward him. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For not giving up on me when you had every reason to."
He looked at her for a long moment. "I wanted to hate you," he admitted. "But every time I looked at you… I couldn't."
Her heart skipped. Their eyes locked, neither looking away. He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face — his touch gentle but sure.
Her pulse raced, and she whispered, "Ethan…"
He didn't reply, just smiled faintly, the corners of his lips trembling with a hundred things left unsaid.
They sat there, their hands brushing, silence speaking louder than words.
Later that evening, when they returned, Aria's phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Dozens of notifications popped up on her screen. Her stomach twisted when she opened the school group chat.
Photos.
Them — walking side by side, smiling, her leaning into him.
Dozens of messages followed:
"So that's why she defended him!"
"Aria and the quiet boy? Seriously?"
"He probably paid her to hang out with him."
Ethan froze beside her, his jaw tightening. "So this is what it takes to ruin someone?" he muttered.
Aria's eyes burned with fury. She stood up, grabbing her phone tightly. "They want to play games?" she said coldly. "Fine. Let's play."
Her voice was sharp, full of control — the tone that once belonged to the bully she used to be, but now aimed to protect.
"Aria—" Ethan began.
She turned to him, her eyes blazing. "No, Ethan. No one humiliates you again. Not while I'm here."
She sent one last message into the group chat:
Say what you want about me. But touch him again — and I swear you'll regret it.
Then she locked her phone and looked up at him, her heartbeat steady but fierce.
He stared at her in silence, then smiled faintly. "You're something else, Aria."
"Yeah," she whispered, stepping closer. "And I'm not done yet."