stomach fluttering like a trapped bird. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine. She hesitated at the door for a heartbeat before knocking, suddenly unsure if she was ready to face Declan again so soon.
Mia swung the door open almost immediately, her bright smile enough to make Racheal relax slightly. "Racheal! I'm so glad you came!"
"Hey," Racheal replied softly, stepping inside.
The living room was warm, filled with the soft hum of the evening lights. Declan was there, casually seated on the sofa, his eyes on her the moment she entered. He gave a small nod, simple yet deliberate, acknowledging her presence without a word.
Her chest tightened. Why did he always have this effect on her? She told herself to breathe, but it felt impossible.
Mia clapped her hands, oblivious to the tension. "Come on, sit! Dinner's almost ready. And Declan—stop glaring at her like she owes you something."
Declan only raised one brow, a smirk tugging at his lips that made Racheal's pulse spike.
Gideon and Noah were there too, sprawled comfortably across the chairs, smirking as they watched the subtle drama unfold. "Man, you two need a reality check," Gideon whispered to Declan. "She's right there! Don't let your stupid pride ruin your chance."
Noah laughed softly. "Or worse—your mysterious aura. You're supposed to be Mr. Unknown, remember? Stop giving her the death stare."
Declan's smirk didn't fade, but his eyes softened slightly as they flickered to Racheal. "I don't need to stare. You always know where I am," he murmured, barely audible, but enough to make her heart skip.
Dinner was served, the clinking of cutlery and Mia's animated chatter filling the room. Racheal tried to focus on her plate, but Declan's presence hovered like a shadow she couldn't shake. Every time she met his eyes, her chest tightened, but she refused to look away.
Mia chattered happily about school, friends, and minor dramas, while Declan stayed quieter, occasionally exchanging a word or two with her. Each sentence felt deliberate, gentle—never forceful, never teasing. She noticed little things: the way he passed her the bread without looking anywhere else, the way his gaze lingered just long enough when she laughed, the way his hand rested near hers without touching.
Her mind raced, tangled between disbelief and hope. He wasn't playing. Every small gesture, every careful word, confirmed what she didn't want to admit: he genuinely cared.
When dinner ended, Mia leaned back, satisfied. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it? Declan, behave! You're not scaring her away, are you?"
Declan's smirk returned, faint but soft. "Not my intention."
Racheal felt her chest loosen just a fraction. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe it. Not fully, but enough to notice how warm she felt inside—not from the food, not from the room, but from him.
As they left the table, Gideon nudged Declan with a knowing grin. "Careful, bro. You're in deep now. She's not walking away this time."
Declan's smile was quiet, almost private, as he glanced at Racheal. And for the first time, she felt like she might not need to run.
The evening stretched on, filled with laughter, gentle teasing, and a quiet understanding that words couldn't yet define. And as Racheal stepped outside into the cool night later, she realized something startling: for the first time, she wanted to stay.