CHAPTER EIGHT: "Acting Normal"
Ash was already in the kitchen when Celeste padded in.
He moved quietly—too quietly. Every gesture was neat, delicate, overly formal. The kind of controlled calm that screamed:
I'm pretending nothing happened.
Celeste watched from the doorway, hoodie hanging lazily over bare legs, arms crossed, lips curled in amusement.
Ash buttered the toast slowly. When he noticed her, he nodded politely without eye contact and said, "Good morning."
Celeste narrowed her eyes slightly. "Since when do you sound like a receptionist?"
"I thought… I'd keep things simple today."
"And quiet?" she added, voice teasing.
He didn't answer. Instead, he handed her a plate—carefully, like she might bite him—and returned to the stove without another word.
Celeste slid into the chair at the table and began eating, chin propped in one hand, eyes flicking to the curve of Ash's back as he moved.
He was like a shy little rabbit pretending to be composed.
She smirked.
"So formal. What are you trying to suppress?"
"I made cinnamon toast," he muttered softly, still not turning around.
Celeste leaned into her palm and whispered to herself, "Such a shy little thing…"
Before Ash could respond, the front door clicked—and Rowan's voice burst into the room like a drumroll.
"I'm alive!" he announced. "And I smell toast!"
Ash tensed like someone hit the brakes on his soul. Celeste didn't even flinch—she leaned back and lazily stabbed her egg.
Rowan wandered in, still half-dressed in his office wear, a bag slung on one shoulder.
"Wow. You two didn't kill Ash while I was gone. Nice."
Celeste rolled her eyes. "I tried. Ash hid in his room too well."
Ash coughed softly and poured coffee like his life depended on it.
Rowan plopped into the chair across from her and yawned.
"Man. I missed this apartment. Missed you too, buddy," he added, looking at Ash, who gave him a small, nervous smile.
"I, um… kept the place tidy."
"Of course you did. You're the only reason this place doesn't burn down."
Celeste raised a brow. "Wow. No warm welcome for your actual sister?"
"I'm sure you've been thriving," Rowan deadpanned. "Terrorizing this poor man."
"I have not terrorized him," Celeste said, stabbing her food with mock offense. "We've been bonding."
Ash nearly dropped his spoon.
He leaned forward with a dramatic clap of his hands.
"Anyway! Weekend plans: I booked us a lakehouse."
Celeste choked. "A what?"
"A clean, cozy lakehouse in the mountains," Rowan said proudly. "Fresh air, no signal, board games, no distractions."
"Besides. There's no classes, no work stress—we've got a full holiday weekend. Time to actually enjoy ourselves." Rowan added, reaching for the juice
Ash blinked. "You booked it already?"
"Yup. Surprise. And—Isadora's coming too."
Celeste's spoon paused mid-stir.
She looked up—not wide-eyed, not sharp. Just… curious.
"Oh?" she said gently. "Who's Isadora?"
Rowan reached for the butter.
"You haven't met her. She was in our old college org. Real cool. Super into design. She moved to France for Work but just flew back a few days ago."
"Yeah… she's nice," Ash said, voice very soft.
Celeste chewed slowly. "So it's a full house."
"Exactly," Rowan said, grinning. "You'll love her. She talks a lot. Like you, but less… murder-y."
Celeste smiled sweetly. "Sounds adorable."
Rowan narrowed his eyes again. "You better behave."
"I always behave," she said, then glanced at Ash.
Ash promptly dropped his spoon.
Rowan blinked. "You okay?"
"Y-Yeah. Just… slippery."
Celeste laughed behind her mug.
After breakfast, Rowan disappeared into his room, saying something about finding 'those stupid waterproof bags.'
Celeste started pulling out a weekender bag from her closet, tossing in random things—shorts, swimwear, way too many tank tops for someone who 'hates sweating.' She wasn't exactly thrilled about this Lakehouse idea. But at least the setting was… intimate.
From the kitchen, Ash moved in practiced silence. He gathered up the dishes and wiped the counters like he was auditioning for househusband of the year. His eyes rarely met hers—his posture still stiff, shy, like someone trying to build an emotional wall using proper posture and folded napkins.
Then Rowan's voice echoed down the hall.
"Yeah, Isa, we're leaving Friday. Yup—me, Celeste, Ash. You better bring sunscreen, 'cause we're not carrying your princess umbrella again—uh huh—wait, you're still using that pink hat?"
Celeste rolled her eyes from the living room and muttered, "Wow. He's really excited to see her."
Ash glanced up at the sound of her voice—but said nothing.
Instead, he turned and walked into the guest room.
Celeste watched him go. She sighed.
Fine. Be that way.
She grabbed her phone and plopped down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. Her headset slipped easily over her ears. Within seconds, her screen lit up—her party already logged in.
Liam [in-game]:
"Heyyy, there she is. Queen Cel is online."
[Lyka]
"You took forever! We already started farming without you."
[Celeste]
"Chill, I had to eat breakfast with awkward tension as my side dish."
[Liam]
"Tension? 👀 Anyone I know?"
[Celeste]
"Don't start. Let's raid."
Her voice shifted into a brighter tone—her "gamer" energy on full display.
Laughs. Banter. Shouting strategies.
From the hallway, Ash emerged again to grab something—then paused in the doorway to the living room.
Celeste was curled up with her controller, headset slightly tilted, hair messily tied. She laughed softly into the mic as Liam said something flirty. Then Lyka made a dirty joke and Celeste laughed even harder.
Ash stood there for a second, unseen.
Then he heard the voice.
Liam [over headset]:
"You're seriously OP. Marry me so we can farm every day."
Celeste [laughing]:
"Flirt better next time, scrub."
Ash turned his head slightly—hearing her laugh with that guy's voice.
Then Lyka's voice chimed in too, teasing something back. Their trio dynamic was casual, easy, close. Too close.
Ash quietly walked to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and returned to his room with his head down.
He shut the door gently.
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