Chapter 4 - The first spark
Ethan's POV
Daphne made it too easy to forget she wasn't mine.
She'd curl up on the couch with her notes, hair falling over her face, and I'd find myself watching longer than I should. She'd laugh at my dumbest jokes, not realizing how much it meant. She trusted me, leaned on me, like I was already part of her world.
I told myself I was fine with being "just the friend." But then there were moments — little ones — that made it harder. Like when her head dropped onto my shoulder after she dozed off during a movie, or when she called my name from the kitchen with her voice soft and unguarded.
They weren't big things. But to me, they were everything.And I knew, even if she didn't see me that way, that I'd already crossed a line in my own heart.
By the second week, it didn't even feel like I had a new roommate anymore. Daphne blended into the place so easily, it was like she'd always been here.
She laughed at my cooking disasters, dropped her books on the table like it was her personal desk, even stole the last soda from the fridge without hesitation. Anyone else would've annoyed me. But with her, it just… worked.
And that was the problem.
She didn't see it, but I felt it. The little things. The way her laugh lingered after a joke, how she scrunched her nose when concentrating, how her hair smelled faintly of coconut shampoo when she leaned too close.
I told myself it was nothing. She had a boyfriend. Long-distance, sure, but still — she mentioned him in passing, and the way her voice softened on the name told me he mattered.
Still, it was hard not to notice the cracks. Like when she hung up the phone too quickly, her face unreadable. Or when she curled on the couch after, hugging a pillow, like she was trying to fill a space that wasn't there.
I wanted to ask. I wanted to say you don't have to hold it all in. But that wasn't my role. I was the roommate. The friend.
So instead, I stayed up with her when she studied late. I cracked dumb jokes just to see her roll her eyes. I let her fall asleep on my shoulder once, even though my arm went completely numb.
It was enough. It had to be.
But deep down, I knew it wouldn't stay that way forever.