I sleep for exactly three hours.
Not because I'm tired.
Because my body shuts down like an overheated phone.
When I wake up, it's because something feels wrong.
Not danger-wrong.
More like… someone touched my stuff wrong.
I open one eye.
Ceiling. Same.
Curtains. Same.
Bed. Same.
Then I notice it.
My pillow is flipped.
I stare at it.
I don't flip my pillow.
I sit up slowly and scan the room like I'm in a low-budget horror movie where the monster is emotional intimacy.
The door is open.
It wasn't open when I went to sleep.
Of course it wasn't.
I drag myself out of bed, hair a mess, dignity nonexistent, and shuffle into the hallway. The apartment is quiet in that rich-people way—too quiet, like even the walls are minding their business.
Then I hear it.
A pan.
Being used.
I blink.
No.
No no no.
I follow the sound into the kitchen and stop dead.
Arrow is cooking.
Cooking.
In my kitchen.
Shirt sleeves rolled up. Hair slightly loose. Focused like this is a sacred ritual and not a personal attack.
"Good morning," he says without turning around.
"…Why are you here?" I ask.
He glances over his shoulder. Smiles.
"You live here."
"That was not the question."
He gestures vaguely with the spatula. "I woke up. You weren't dead. I got hungry."
I stare at the stove. Eggs. Toast. Fruit cut neatly like he respects vitamins.
"You just… decided to cook?"
"You always skip breakfast."
I freeze.
"…Excuse me?"
He finally turns fully, leaning back against the counter like he owns the place. Which, given his energy, is deeply concerning.
"You say you'll eat later," he continues. "You don't. Then you get cranky by noon and pretend it's everyone else's fault."
I blink at him.
Once.
Twice.
"Oh," I say slowly. "So you're stalking me with love now."
He grins. "Always have."
I hate that my stomach flips.
I move closer, inspecting the food like it might explode. "You know this is suspicious behavior, right?"
"You're eating," he says calmly.
"I did not agree to that."
"You're standing closer."
Damn it.
I grab a piece of fruit out of spite and bite into it aggressively.
He watches me like I'm a nature documentary.
"Don't look at me like that," I mutter.
"Like what?"
"Like you're proud."
"I am."
I choke on the fruit. "WHY?"
"You didn't pretend you weren't hungry."
That shouldn't feel like a win.
It does.
I sit at the counter. He plates the food and slides it toward me like we're married or something equally illegal.
I eat.
Silence stretches.
Not awkward. Just… weirdly normal.
Then my phone buzzes.
I don't even need to look.
Maddie.
I smile around a mouthful of toast.
Arrow notices immediately. Of course he does.
"That smile is dangerous," he says. "Who is it?"
I glance at my phone.
"Maddie."
His brow furrows. "She texted me at six."
I snort. "Of course she did."
"What's funny?"
I unlock my phone and read it aloud, sweet as sugar.
Good morning 💕 I couldn't sleep, I kept thinking about last night. Are you okay?
I look up at Arrow.
"She's panicking."
"She's worried," he corrects automatically.
I tilt my head. "Is she?"
He hesitates.
Good.
I type back slowly.
Morning! I slept like a baby 😌 Hope you feel better soon!
Send.
Arrow squints. "That's… nice."
"Exactly."
He opens his mouth, then closes it.
Smart man.
I take another bite of toast. "Watch this."
I set my phone down, deliberately face-up.
Ten seconds.
Buzz.
I don't pick it up.
Thirty seconds.
Buzz buzz.
I sip my coffee.
Arrow exhales slowly. "You're doing that on purpose."
"Doing what?"
"That."
"Being cheerful?"
He laughs under his breath. "You're evil."
"Selective," I correct.
The phone buzzes again.
I finally check it.
Oh! Okay! I'm glad 🥰 Let me know if you need anything at all, I'm free today!
Free.
Translation: Please let me back into the narrative.
I smile and lock the phone.
"No reply?" Arrow asks.
"Nope."
"That's cold."
"It's warm," I say. "Just not for her."
He watches me for a long moment, then shakes his head slightly, amused.
"You're enjoying this."
I shrug. "She enjoyed being necessary."
The morning passes like that.
Arrow stays.
Unapologetically.
He doesn't hover, but he doesn't leave either. Reads on the couch. Takes a call quietly. Exists in my space like he's always belonged there.
At noon, Maddie shows up.
Unannounced.
Of course.
The doorbell rings.
I don't move.
Arrow looks at me. "Aren't you going to—"
"No."
The bell rings again.
Then knocking.
I finally stand, stretching lazily like I didn't hear her fighting for relevance on the other side.
When I open the door, Maddie looks relieved. Then confused. Then threatened.
"You didn't answer," she says too quickly.
"I was busy," I reply lightly.
Her eyes flick past me.
Arrow is behind me now, leaning against the wall.
Her smile falters.
"Oh," she says. "You're… both here."
"Yes," Arrow says pleasantly. "Good afternoon."
She steps inside like she belongs.
I let her.
Mistake number one.
She sits where she always sits.
Mistake number two.
She picks up a mug from the counter.
Mistake number three.
"That's not yours," I say calmly.
She freezes.
"Oh—I thought—"
"I changed my mind," I continue sweetly. "I don't like people using my things anymore."
Arrow coughs. Definitely hiding a laugh.
Maddie sets the mug down slowly, cheeks pink.
"I was just worried," she says.
"I know," I reply. "You always are."
Not cruel.
Just accurate.
She smiles tightly. "You're acting strange."
I tilt my head. "Am I?"
"Yes," she snaps—then catches herself. "I mean… different."
Arrow watches her now. Not me.
Interesting.
"Different isn't bad," I say. "You taught me that, remember?"
Her eyes flicker.
She doesn't remember saying that.
But I do.
She leaves not long after.
Claims another headache.
I don't offer to walk her out.
When the door closes, Arrow laughs.
Actually laughs.
"Okay," he says. "I see it now."
"See what?"
"You're not just different," he says. "You're dangerous."
I grin. "Good."
He steps closer. Lowers his voice.
"Just don't burn the wrong people."
I meet his gaze.
"I never do."
He holds my stare for a second longer than necessary.
Then—
"Lunch?"
I blink. "You're still here?"
He smiles. "I told you. I'm staying."
I sigh dramatically. "This is how it starts."
"With food?"
"With you never leaving."
He shrugs. "Could be worse."
I watch him walk back into the kitchen, completely at ease, and feel something twist pleasantly in my chest.
Maddie's balance is already off.
Arrow's attention is shifting.
And me?
I'm just getting warmed up.