The apartment felt… lighter in the morning. Almost as if the chaos of last night had been wiped clean, replaced with the soft scent of warm sunlight, leftover wine, and someone's shampoo still clinging to the couch pillows.
Isadora stretched her arms over her head.
"Alright, I'm gonna head home for a bit," she said, reaching for her phone. "I need to shower, change, can't wear the same clothes I had on last night, I'll be back later."
Rowan looked up from the kitchen island, sipping coffee.
"Wait—how long are you staying here again?"
"Mmm… two weeks? I guess" she replied, fixing her tangled hair with her fingers.
"Oh, that's not far off," Rowan said, squinting at her. "You'll be flying back that soon?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "My job's still waiting for me abroad."
Ash gave a polite nod without looking up from the box he was labeling.
"Careful on your way home."
________
By noon, Ash was packing.
Boxes lined the hallway. His books, meticulously sorted. Labeled bins. Folded sweaters in perfect rows.
Celeste sat cross-legged on the floor, slowly wrapping bubble wrap around his mugs while humming an off-key tune.
"You know," she said, casually, "it's kind of rude to move just one floor away without throwing a proper goodbye party."
"I'm not dying," Ash muttered, carefully taping a box. "Just moving upstairs."
"Yeah," she said with a grin, "but now I can't sneak into your room and pounce you while you're asleep."
He choked on his breath, nearly dropping the roll of tape.
"C-Celeste!"
Rowan entered carrying folded towels, pausing mid-step.
"Why is Ash red again?"
Celeste answered innocently.
"Must be heatstroke."
Ash cleared his throat. "I'm fine."
_______
The elevator chimed softly as the doors slid open. Ash, Rowan, and Celeste stepped inside, arms full of boxes. Rowan had two stacked awkwardly in his arms, mumbling something about getting a hernia. Celeste carried a single medium box—light enough to manage, but more than enough excuse to be close to Ash.
Ash, flustered as always, stood at the back with a large box pressed to his chest, glasses slightly fogged from the exertion.
"Ugh," Rowan huffed, pressing the button for the next floor up. "Ash, why do you have so many damn books? I thought you were secretly a minimalist."
Ash adjusted his glasses.
"They're all important."
"Yeah? Does How to Properly Fold Laundry by Type and Season count as important?"
"That one's useful," Ash defended softly.
Celeste stifled a laugh behind her box.
As the elevator began to rise, she casually leaned toward Ash, voice barely above a whisper.
"You're sweating."
"I-I'm carrying a box," he replied awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.
She smirked, biting her lip.
"Want me to wipe your sweat for you, Ashy?"
Ash nearly dropped the box.
"Celeste!" he whispered, blushing furiously. "S-Stop it—Rowan's here."
Rowan looked over, frowning.
"What?"
Celeste turned with a grin.
"Nothing. Your box is upside down."
"What?!"
Rowan quickly fumbled to check, nearly losing grip on both boxes.
His blush deepened, ears completely red now.
The elevator dinged.
"Finally!" Rowan groaned, stepping out first. "Let's get this over with. I think my arms are gonna fall off."
________
The apartment was finally still.
Stacks of boxes lined the walls, and the faint scent of fresh packaging, sweat, and cardboard lingered in the air. Golden sunlight streamed through the window, casting soft shadows across the polished floor.
Ash was sitting against the wall, his hair a little damp with sweat, shirt slightly wrinkled, glasses sliding down his nose. He was rubbing his shoulder when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He checked the screen.
Isadora.
He answered, trying not to sound too drained.
"Hey."
"Hey," Isadora's voice came through. "I bought some snacks and drinks, but my hands are full and I can't get through the front door—can you come down?"
Ash opened his mouth to respond—but before he could even make a sound, Celeste suddenly sat up.
"Oh! Rowan should go," she said quickly, flashing a grin. "He hasn't moved in the last thirty minutes. He needs the cardio."
"Huh?" Rowan squinted. "What did I do?"
Celeste was already nudging him with her foot.
"Come on. You're stronger than both of us, and Ash's knee is probably about to give out."
"I'm fine—" Ash started.
But Celeste cut in with a sickly sweet voice.
"You're tired, Ash. And I insist."
Rowan groaned but stood up, cracking his back like an old man.
"Fine. I'll go be the heroic delivery boy."
"Thank you," Celeste sang, already scooting closer to Ash the moment Rowan turned to leave.
Ash didn't question it. Not really. He was too busy catching his breath… and wondering why his heart had started beating faster the moment the door clicked shut behind Rowan.
Now the apartment was quiet.
Just the two of them.
Celeste slowly stretched her arms above her head, letting out a soft sigh.
"Finally."
Ash looked over, wary.
"…Finally what?"
She smiled lazily, tilting her head.
"Alone time."
Ash's breath caught in his throat.
"My back is crying," she said.
Ash gave a soft laugh.
"You barely carried anything heavy…"
She rolled her head to look at him, smirking.
"Excuse me? I carried the box labeled 'Misc.' and it was heavier than all your emotional repression."
Ash pouted faintly, brushing his hair behind his ear.
"I… I didn't ask you to help."
Celeste grinned.
"No, but I did. And now I want a reward."
Ash blinked, already fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.
"R-Reward?"
"Yes," she said firmly, shifting to face him. "For my blood, sweat, and effort. I want compensation. Preferably something cute."
Ash's legs curled up instinctively.
"W-What kind of compensation?"
"How about a massage… or a snack… or—" she brushed her finger lightly under his chin, "a kiss." Celeste's voice dipped low, barely above a whisper as she stepped closer.
"I want to kiss you so bad," she said, her eyes locked to his. "...You know what?"
Ash swallowed hard.
"Every damn time. I close my eyes, and I'm thinking about you… on me. In me. Doing things you'd be too embarrassed to say out loud."
His heart slammed against his ribs.
"I think about you so much it drives me insane," she said. "And the worst part? You're always so clueless. So careful. Like you have no idea I'm imagining you wrecking me."
"Y-You…!" he sputtered, ears flaming, voice cracking halfway through. "Y-You can't just s-say things like that!"
His entire face turned scarlet. He was practically vibrating in place, unsure whether to run for the door or melt into the floor.
Celeste grinned, stepping closer, clearly savoring every second of his panic.
"Why not? I've already grabbed your—"
"C-Celeste!" Ash squeaked, spinning around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. His voice hit a pitch he hadn't used since puberty. "L-Language! You—you can't just—! That's—!"
He looked over his shoulder with wide, scandalized eyes—like a Victorian maiden in a romance novel.
"Oh please," she said, smirking. "You survived it."
He pointed a finger at her, flustered and red-eared.
"This is why I can't leave you unsupervised."
"And yet, here we are," she said, taking a step closer. "Alone. In your new apartment. You, looking all pink and pretty. Me, extremely unsupervised."
But then she paused, her smirk faltering just a little—like her thoughts had taken a sharp turn elsewhere.
"About last night…"
Ash tensed immediately.
"Wh-What about it?"
Her tone casual—too casual.
"When Isadora asked if you ever had a crush on someone in the room."
He froze.
"I've been thinking about that," she continued. "You never answered. You deflected. Classic Ash."
He looked away.
"It was a stupid question."
"No, it wasn't," she said firmly.
"I answered enough. You all got your laugh."
Celeste tilted her head.
"But you didn't say no."
Silence.
She took one more step, now standing right beside him, and lowered her voice.
"You looked at someone."
He still looked away.
"...And I saw it, Ash," she said gently. "You looked...at me."
He didn't speak. But the way his breath caught? That was answer enough.
"So tell me," she said, eyes gleaming with mischief but edged with something deeper. "Was it... me?"
Ash turned to her slowly. His face was already pink, eyes unreadable behind his glasses.
Ash opened his mouth. Closed it. Adjusted his glasses. Looked away.
Celeste raised a brow.
He cleared his throat.
"I-I'm not saying anything without a lawyer present."
She laughed loudly, throwing her head back.
"You're impossible."
"And you are outrageous."
"Perfect match, then."
_________