Young. Tall. Adorably handsome in that laid-back, campus heartthrob kind of way. Clean skin, sleepy eyes, black hair a little tousled like he'd just rolled out of a photoshoot. The kind of face that already had all the women on the floor giggling behind coffee cups. A distant cousin of Katherine, apparently. Of course.
I didn't groan out loud, but my chest tightened.
I didn't have the energy for this.
Another fresh intern, probably cocky, probably used to getting by on charm alone. And if he was related to Katherine? Yeah... he was going to give me hell.
"Hi, I'm Alex," he said, walking right up to me with his hand extended. "You're Kina, right? I heard you're the best."
Still, I greeted him professionally and began explaining the usual systems, routines, and responsibilities. My voice clipped. Neutral.
Alex, however, didn't interrupt. He didn't flirt. He didn't do that thing some of the younger interns did where they giggled after my every sentence like I was their grandmother. Instead, he listened.
Then he tilted his head.
"You're worried I'll be a pain in the ass," he said softly, lips twitching into a small smile.
My spine stiffened. "No, I'm not."
"You totally are," he said. "It's fine. I'd be worried too. But I promise I'll try not to be annoying."
His voice was low. Unhurried. Gentle, even.
And it made me feel... bad.
"No—I didn't mean—" I started, awkward now. "I just... I've had some bad experiences."
Alex nodded. "Got it. Don't worry. I'll be your least problematic intern. That's my promise."
His grin was boyish and sheepish all at once, and before I could stop myself, I laughed, just a little. And from that point on, my shoulders stayed just a bit looser around him.
At lunch break,
I sat alone at a table in the break room, content with the silence. I unwrapped my lunch box slowly, fingers brushing the neat ribbon Kieran had tied around it. He always packed it like he was sending me off to kindergarten, like I was fragile and deserving of sweetness.
I hadn't even picked up my spoon before someone dropped into the seat across me.
"Pardon my intrusion," Alex said.
I froze. "Ah... There are other tables."
"Yeah, and every woman in there wants to know what I'm studying, who I'm dating, and what my zodiac sign is." He shrugged. "You don't talk too much. I like that."
I blinked.
"Ah. Okay."
Rude.
He laughed. "No, I meant it in a good way. You're... peaceful. No pressure."
I didn't reply, but I did push the lunchbox open.
Alex leaned forward. "Whoa. That looks amazing. Did you make this?"
I hesitated. "...Sort of."
"Well, it smells incredible. Chef status unlocked. Your boyfriend must be lucky."
And although guilt coiled in my chest, because Kieran had cooked it, not me... I smiled and let Alex have that thought.
Still he was more easy going than I thought and I didn't feel too stiff around him anymore.
By five, the skies had gone moody again.
I stood by the office entrance, umbrella in hand, grateful Kieran had slipped it into my hand that morning.
As I stepped out, a hand tugged at my wrist.
"Wait—Kina, hey! Can you walk me to the convenience store nearby?" Alex called over the wind and the splash of tires.
I frowned. "You can just call a cab."
"I'm broke," he said with an exaggerated pout and then a cute smile. "College student life, remember?"
"Aren't you related to Katherine?"
"Unfortunately," he said. "But she doesn't pay my rent."
I hesitated. The rain got heavier.
He smiled. "Come on. I'll share your umbrella. I'm nice. And tall. I can hold it."
With a reluctant sigh, I gave in. "Uhm... But just to the store."
We walked, the umbrella barely shielding us both. The rain curled around us anyway, Alex's arm brushing mine occasionally, his jokes light, easy.
For a moment, it felt like normal life.
By the time I got home, I was damp and tired and aching for warmth.
"I'm home." I muttered tiredly.
But the scent hit me first. Spices. Butter. Something rich.
I stepped in, and froze.
There he was.
Kieran.
Wearing a pink apron.
Standing in my kitchen.
Cooking.
Like he belonged there.
I stood by the door, watching him move, precise, methodical, lips slightly parted as he tasted the sauce, bare arms flexing slightly with every movement.
It was so absurdly domestic I felt dizzy.
He turned just then, catching my stare.
"What?" he asked, brows raised.
I could never get used to this.
"You..." I gestured vaguely at all of him. "You're wearing aprons now?"
He shrugged. "You like to eat. I like to cook. It's not complicated."
Then, softly, "Take a warm shower. Dinner's almost done."
And god—I didn't know how I'd ever get used to him.
Because nothing about Kieran should have made sense.
But he still somehow felt like home.