Evan woke up next day, and the first thing he noticed was the smell of burning toast, with an unfamiliar weight on the edge of his bed. He opened one eye to take a look.
It was Noah. He sat there, with elbows on his knees, phone in one hand and jaw tight like he was arguing with the screen using pure willpower.
"You are alive," Noah said without looking up.
Evan blinked. "Good morning to you too" and pushed himself upright too fast.
The room tilted and The world lurched.
Noah was on his feet instantly, his hands gripping Evan's shoulders.
"Idiot," he snapped. "Do you enjoy gravity this much?"
"I was testing it."
"Don't."
Their faces were too close.
Evan noticed first.
He leaned back.
Noah stepped away just as quickly, rubbing his neck like he'd touched a hot stove.
"…I made breakfast," he muttered.
"You burned it."
"On purpose."
"Liar."
They went to the kitchen.
Smoke hovered like a crime scene.
A blackened slice of toast lay in the pan like evidence of incompetence.
Evan picked it up, inspected it seriously. "It's modern art."
"You're banned from sarcasm before noon."
"And you're banned from cooking."
Noah scoffed. "I keep criminals alive for a living."
"That's different."
Evan reached for a plate.
His hand slipped.
The plate shattered.
Both of them froze.
The sound rang too loud.
Evan stared at the pieces like they were his fault in a deeper way.
"I'll clean it," he said quickly, kneeling.
Noah grabbed his wrist.
"Don't."
"I can—"
"You'll cut yourself."
"That's statistically unlikely."
"You're bad at statistics."
They stared at each other.
Then Evan tried to pull away.
Noah didn't let go.
Not immediately.
The moment stretched.
Then Noah released him abruptly.
"I'll do it."
He picked up the shards with his bare hands.
"Use a towel," Evan said.
"I'm fine."
Blood welled instantly.
Evan's breath caught.
"You're not fine."
He grabbed Noah's hand without thinking.
Held it.
Too tight.
Noah hissed.
Evan realized what he was doing.
Let go.
"I—sorry."
Noah stared at his bleeding palm.
Then at Evan.
"…You panic when other people bleed."
Evan swallowed.
"You panic when I fall."
Silence.
Not soft.
Tense.
Loaded.
Noah wrapped his hand in paper towels.
"I have to go to work."
Evan nodded too fast. "Of course."
Another body.
They both knew.
At the door, Noah paused.
He didn't turn around.
"You're not allowed to leave today."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good."
A beat.
"If you feel it again—"
"I know."
Noah left.
Evan stood in the kitchen surrounded by broken porcelain.
His chest felt wrong.
Heavy.
Not the pressure.
Something worse.
Across the city, Kai sat in traffic, humming to the radio, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.
On the passenger seat: a grocery bag.
Inside it, identical juice bottles.
Same brand.
Same color.
Same smile printed on the label.
He checked his watch.
Right on schedule.