The things we almost were

"Dad, I'm home!" I called out, kicking off my shoes the second I stepped into the kitchen. Warm air wrapped around me instantly-thick with the smell of tomato sauce, garlic, and freshly baked bread.

My stomach growled like it hadn't seen food in days. Dad was at the stove, stirring something in a big silver pot, completely in his element, like he was conducting a symphony instead of cooking dinner.

"Smells amazing," I said, dropping my bag onto the floor with a dull thud.

He turned, face lighting up. "Hey, sweetheart! How was your first full day at school?" He pulled me into one of his bear hugs, the kind that smelled like aftershave and oregano. His hands were still warm from the steam curling up from the pot.

"It was great, actually!" I said, trying to sound casual even though I was still buzzing from everything that had happened. "I met this guy-Ronald. He's really funny, super chill, kinda sarcastic, but in a good way. We sat together in class."

Dad smiled knowingly, still stirring. "So, you made a friend. That's a good start."

"Yeah," I said, sliding onto one of the stools by the counter. "And honestly, I think I'm gonna like this school. Everyone seems nice. Well-almost everyone."

He glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "Almost?"

I fiddled with the edge of a napkin, pretending to think. "You remember that story about the politician who died on his son's birthday?"

Dad froze mid-stir. "Yeah. Hard to forget something like that. Why?"

"His son goes to my school," I said, watching his reaction carefully. "Elian Collins. I actually saw him today-with this other guy, Kaelin. They're... kind of impossible to ignore."

Dad frowned slightly. "Impossible how?"

I laughed under my breath. "They just stand out. Kaelin's got this look-tall, dark, that quiet, arrogant vibe with a stare that makes you forget what you were saying.

And Elian..." I trailed off, the image of him flashing in my head-caught off guard in the hallway, hair falling slightly into his eyes, that soft, almost reluctant kind of beauty. "He's the calm, pretty kind. The kind who doesn't even try."

Dad gave me that teasing dad look-the one that made him look ten years younger.

"Should I be worried about this Elian kid?"

I groaned dramatically. "Dad, no! He's just... pretty, okay? And besides, from what I heard, he and Kaelin are probably a thing."

He blinked. "A thing?"

"Yeah." I lowered my voice like I was spilling some classified secret. "Ronald told me they're always together. And when I saw them earlier, let's just say... their body language was very close."

Dad chuckled, shaking his head. "High school drama already? You've been there one day."

"I know, right?" I said, laughing. "But it's not like I'm judging them or anything. I just didn't expect that to be the first thing I'd see. It was... surprising."

He scooped some sauce over the pasta, handed me a plate, and smiled softly.

"Well, don't go jumping to conclusions, Liv. People aren't always what they seem."

"I know," I said, twirling the noodles around my fork. "Still, they're interesting. Especially Kaelin. He's hard to read-like he's got a thousand thoughts running through his head, but he never says any of them."

Dad gave me that knowing half-smile again.

"And what about you? You planning on solving the mystery?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No way. I'm just gonna mind my business and survive the semester."

"Good plan," he said, raising his fork like a toast. "To survival."

We clinked our forks together, laughing. The house felt warm again-alive in a way it hadn't in a long time.

Later that night, after dinner, while Dad hummed at the sink, washing the dishes, my mind drifted back to Elian again.

The way he'd looked at Kaelin in that hallway-like something had gone wrong, like he wasn't sure what to feel.

Maybe it wasn't any of my business. But it stuck with me anyway.

Something about those two felt tangled. Complicated.

And deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, I was going to get caught in the middle of it.

********

Elian's POV

I woke up with a headache that felt like someone was drumming inside my skull. My throat was dry, my head heavy, and even the silence felt too loud.

Groaning, I reached for my phone on instinct, squinting against the faint morning light bleeding through the curtains-

and froze.

Something warm and heavy was draped around my waist.

Kae's hand.

For a second, I just stared at it, my foggy brain trying to piece together how the hell this happened. I did not fall asleep on his bed last night. I was supposed to be on the couch-or at least on the other side of the room.

Slowly, I turned my head.

There he was.

Kaelin.

Fast asleep beside me, hair a mess, breathing slow and steady. He looked... peaceful. Which was weird. Normally, he had that sharp, guarded expression that screamed don't even try me. But right now, in the soft morning light, he looked different. Softer. Almost-human.

I carefully tried to lift his hand off me, but of course, my phone was right by his leg, mocking me.

"Hey," I whispered, giving his shoulder a small tap. "Get up. We're gonna be late for school."

He just hummed sleepily and buried his face in the pillow, ignoring me completely.

"Come on, Kae," I said again, nudging him. "You're not skipping school."

"Who cares?" he mumbled, voice muffled by the pillow.

I rolled my eyes. Classic Kae.

Fine. I gave up, heading for a cold shower, hoping it'd shock my system back to life.

When I came back out, towel around my shoulders, he was sitting up on the bed, looking like death warmed over.

His hand was pressed to his temple, eyes squinting like the light itself was personally attacking him.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked.

He blinked up at me, confusion flickering across his face before twisting into mock suspicion.

"Did you drug me?"

I stared. "What? Seriously?"

"I mean, I only had a few drinks last night," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I never get this wasted. This feels weird."

I smacked his shoulder lightly. "Relax, dude. I didn't drug you. You probably just mixed your drinks. Come on, take a shower-you'll feel better."

He groaned. "No, seriously, this doesn't make sense. My head's killing me."

"Yeah, that's called a hangover, genius."

I went to grab him some aspirin and water. When I came back, he was still sitting there, staring blankly at the wall like he was questioning every life choice he'd ever made.

"You sure you can go to school?" I asked, handing him the pills. "You can stay home if you want. I'll drive myself."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Nope. I'm good. I'll come."

"Suit yourself," I said, smirking. "But if you're gonna move that slow, I'm taking your car."

That earned me a lazy glare. "Go ahead," he muttered. "Like I care."

He stood up with the enthusiasm of someone who deeply regretted existing and trudged toward the bathroom, towel in hand.

Then, right before stepping in, he turned, grin tugging at his lips.

"Won't you help me shower? I'm sick," he teased.

"You wish," I said, flipping him off.

He just chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came out, hair damp, looking slightly more human, he reached for a cigarette on his nightstand and flicked his lighter.

I shot him the look-the one that said don't even start.

He caught my eye, exhaled smoke, and sighed. "Sorry, man," he said, half-heartedly.

"You're hopeless," I muttered.

"You're welcome to leave if it bothers you," he said lazily, smirk returning. "My house is big enough."

Big enough, yeah.

As he turned away, I glanced around-the soft glow of morning spilling across the wide room, tall ceilings, shadows dancing over the furniture. His place always felt like him:

quiet, complicated, and a little too easy to get lost in.