Evaline:
The soft fabric of River's coat still smelled faintly like him - draped over my shoulders as I sat on the kitchen stool. His tie was wrapped loosely around my fingers, his phone resting on the counter beside me. A strange sense of belonging buzzed through me at the thought that he had left all three things in my possession so casually, as if he trusted me to guard them.
He moved with practiced ease in front of the oven, the light glinting off his sharp jawline as he leaned down to check on the food. He wasn't saying much, but for the first time since I had met him, his silence didn't feel distant. It felt heavy. Focused.
And then, his voice broke through, low and smooth. "What did you do today?"
I blinked, startled. He never asked questions like that. He wasn't one for small talk. Clearing my throat, I shifted the tie from one hand to the other, suddenly too aware of his eyes flicking to me before returning to the tray he pulled out.
