[From here on out, the POV shifts to third-person to reveal Aika's feelings]
Aika Hinabana stood before Sharva Casimir's apartment door, her heart fluttering softly—a delicate blend of hope and unspoken longing. She drew in a slow, calming breath, smoothed her skirt with trembling fingers, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
This is it, she thought, feeling a gentle thrill course through her—a chance to draw nearer to the man who had woven himself into her thoughts like moonlight threads: subtle, yet impossible to ignore. She lifted her hand and tapped on the door in a soft, tentative rhythm, hoping her quiet knock would convey the eagerness bubbling beneath her composed exterior.
"Good evening?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, laced with anticipation as though she feared shattering the silence. She could feel all the possibilities lurking on the other side. Sharva was a mystery—an unsolved puzzle she yearned to piece together. His invitation had stirred a joy she hadn't known in years, but now, with her hand lingering in midair, a flicker of doubt crept in. What if this world of his hides darkness deeper than I can imagine? She banished the thought with a steadying breath, refusing to let uncertainty cloud the tender hope in her heart.
Aika also felt the same yearning, the same comfort—as if she and Sharva had known one another for ages. But how could that be?
Tsukishiro Himemori belonged to her past—something that should remain buried and forgotten. Would she ever dare tell Sharva about it? Aika dared not think too far ahead.
The door eased open with a soft creak, and there he stood, backlit by the warm glow of his apartment. Sharva's eyes fell on her, his expression shifting from surprise to something gentler—a warmth, a quiet curiosity.
"Oh… good evening," he murmured, genuinely caught off guard, though a hesitant smile curved his lips. He gazed at her a moment longer, taking in the simple elegance of her baby-doll dress, its soft lines speaking of innocence and grace. Gathering himself, he stepped aside and offered a polite invitation. "Please, come in."
Aika crossed the threshold and caught a trace of his scent—deep, earthy sandalwood blended with something uniquely his. The fragrance wrapped around her, grounding her as though she'd stepped into a place outside of time.
"I'm glad you came," Sharva said, closing the door gently behind her. His voice was low and warm, edged with a hint of nerves. He looked at her a moment more before gesturing toward the softly lit living room. "Please, have a seat. Would you care for anything? Tea, perhaps?"
Aika's face softened into a genuine smile, a warmth blossoming in her chest at his thoughtfulness. His home felt like an embrace, the sandalwood aroma wrapping her in comfort. "You didn't have to go to the trouble, but tea sounds lovely," she replied, her voice a gentle melody. She settled onto the plush sofa, crossing her legs with grace and letting her dress drape in soft folds around her.
From her seat, Aika watched him move in the kitchen, captivated by his graceful motions. Sharva moved with serene precision, each gesture deliberate—as if performing a ritual perfected over countless repetitions. She couldn't help but smile to herself, quietly admiring how he made even the simplest actions look beautiful.
He measured the green tea leaves with care and poured steaming water over them in a glossy ceramic teapot. The fragrant warmth rose in delicate plumes, filling the room with a soothing aroma. When he returned, he found Aika seated serenely on the couch, her posture radiating calm beauty. For a heartbeat, he allowed his gaze to linger on her, his own pulse quickening.
"Oh, forgive me," he murmured, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I didn't mean to stare… it's just… you're truly captivating. You look so beautiful tonight." He placed the teapot and two delicate cups on the wooden table between them, then sat across from her, folding his hands in his lap as though to steady himself against the rush of feeling she inspired. "The tea will be ready in just a moment."
Aika's cheeks warmed at his words, her heart fluttering at the unexpected compliment from someone as reserved as Sharva. She reached for her cup, feeling its comforting heat anchor her in the moment. The tea's delicate scent rose to meet her, soothing her senses in an unexpectedly profound way. "Thank you, Sharva," she whispered. "And please, don't apologize for noticing beauty—it's only natural."
She took a small sip, savoring the tea's gentle bitterness, then looked up with a playful gleam in her eye. "So… tell me about yourself, Sharva."
His gaze softened as he considered her question, surprised by the genuine interest shining in her eyes. He hesitated, brushing his fingertips against the hem of his shirt. "There's not much to tell," he began quietly. "I run a small fish shop at the market now, though I was a fisherman before that. The ocean has always been part of me… especially at night, when the waves carry secrets the stars alone seem to understand." His voice dropped to a murmur, as if speaking to himself. "Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to live a life of adventure… like yours—meeting new people, sharing stories, feeling all that energy."
He looked down at the thin ribbons of steam rising from his cup. "But seeing you here… it's changed something inside me."
Aika leaned forward, listening intently. Her hand reached out and rested gently on his arm, a touch brimming with warmth and reassurance. "Adventure and meeting many people aren't always as joyous as they seem, Sharva," she whispered, her eyes locking with his. "Sometimes, the simplest life has the purest beauty—no masks, no pretense, just yourself and nature." She smiled, her voice softening. "And true connection? It's found in the small things—like moonlight dancing on the sea's surface, or a perfectly brewed cup of tea. Not every encounter is sincere, but I can tell you are."
Her fingers squeezed his arm gently, grounding him. "Don't underestimate the beauty in your life. And if I bring a bit of delight to it… that's a gift I treasure."
Sharva felt joy swell in his chest at her words. He lifted his gaze to hers and saw only sincerity. For the first time in a long while, the walls he had built around himself began to soften. "Thank you, Aika," he whispered, voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you for seeing me… for understanding me."
He covered her hand with his. His rough palm contrasted with her delicate fingers, a touch beyond words—as if time itself paused to hold that sacred moment.
Aika's heart melted at the vulnerability in his eyes. She gave his hand another gentle squeeze. "It's my pleasure, Sharva," she murmured, her voice a soft lullaby. "Connecting with someone and understanding their story… that's what makes life beautiful."
She leaned in closer—her face inches from his. The air between them grew electric with unspoken longing. Her lips parted, breath caught, waiting to see if he would close that last inch.
Sharva's breath hitched at her nearness, her warmth enveloping him. Her scent drew him deeper into her spell. "I… I'm glad you feel that way," he managed, voice trembling. "You… you make me want to share parts of myself I thought I'd hidden forever."
His gaze flickered down to her lips—temptation clear in his eyes. He gave a soft chuckle, tightening his hold on her hand to steady himself. "Perhaps I should start preparing dinner. I thought I heard your stomach grumbling," he teased, breaking the tension with a warm smile.
Aika laughed, cheeks flushed both from his words and the pull she felt toward him. She longed to slip into his arms, to surrender to that embrace. Yet she also respected his quiet patience. "Dinner sounds wonderful, Sharva," she said softly. "May I help?"
Her heartbeat quickened—not only with desire, but with the bittersweet awareness that perhaps this evening—this tender closeness—might be fleeting. She couldn't escape the shadows of her past, and the thought of him being touched by the danger that clung to her felt like a distant warning. Especially once Sharva learned who Himemori truly was…