Olivia's POV
I was tossing and turning, willing myself to stay under the warm covers. The room felt too quiet. I reached over to Adrian's side out of habit, and my hand met cool sheets. He wasn't there.
It should have been Saturday — he always told me we could sleep in on weekends — so it felt strange that he wasn't beside me. My heart gave a small, puzzled lift, but I stayed still for a moment longer, letting the house sounds settle.
Then I heard a faint clink and something rattling in the kitchen. I smiled to myself. Noah must have gotten up early again.
I slipped out of bed and smoothed the duvet as I passed. The light through the hallway was soft, the kind that makes everything look a little kinder. When I opened the kitchen door, I almost laughed.
"Good morning," I said, walking closer. The bowl in front of him held beige batter. The pancakes in the pan looked a little different in color, though.
He held out a plate like he was proud. "Ta-da," he said. His smile was gentle, like a kid who had just made something for the first time.
I couldn't help smiling back, and I kissed his forehead.
"I tried to make breakfast," he said happily.
"You look like you lost a flour fight," I teased, wiping his cheek.
"I did. But worth it," he said, and he pretended to be offended when I pointed to the raw batter. "They're... edible."
"Don't eat raw batter," I warned. "You'll get sick. I don't want to be taking care of two grown men, you know, Noah is still recovering."
He made a face and then nodded. "Okay, okay. I'll be careful."
"Is Noah up?" I asked.
"Not yet. He's still sleeping," Adrian answered. He turned back to the stove. "But I'm almost done. Go wake him."
I nodded and left him to continue his pancake experiment.
I smiled and walked down the hallway toward Noah's room.
Noah's POV
A gentle knock woke me. I rolled over, expecting the ceiling and the quiet. Instead, Olivia pushed the door open and stepped inside with that smile that always made my chest feel too small.
She looked up at me, and the morning light made her hair shine. I instantly went red, a rush that spread from my ears down to my neck. Even though I was fully awake, I hid under the blanket like a kid trying not to be seen.
"Morning," she said softly. Her smile grew. "Why are you hiding?"
"I—" I mumbled from under the sheets, trying to sound casual. "Nothing."
She chuckled and reached forward. With one quick tug, she pulled the blanket off my face, and there I was — cheeks blazing as bright as a tomato.
"Stop," I said, but it came out weak. She laughed, not unkindly.
"Get up, Noah. Breakfast's ready. Go wash up." Her voice was warm and steady, but there was that playful edge that made me want to stay hidden forever.
I pawed at my nails and tried to calm myself. "I wasn't blushing," I protested, though the sound of my own voice betrayed me.
Olivia turned back, an amused look on her face. "What made you think I thought you were blushing?" she teased, then she left, giggling down the hall.
My chest turned at the sound of her laugh, and for a moment I sat very still, the memory of her smile looping in my head. I shook my head as if to clear it and muttered, "Noah, you're being ridiculous," then jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
Olivia's POV
I helped Adrian serve breakfast. Noah finally came out of his room and sat at the table. He still looked a little shy.
I poured warm milk for Adrian first. He took it and kissed my hand. "Thank you," he said softly.
I felt warm inside. When I poured Noah's milk, I watched his face. He looked sweet one moment, and then he looked distant the next.
I asked him, "Noah, you okay?"
He said nothing at first. His jaw worked like he was holding something in. He took his cup and looked down.
"I'm fine," he said finally, but his voice sounded quiet and thin.
I felt the change in him like a small chill. It was subtle, but it made my chest tighten. I wanted to ask more, to pull it out of him gently, but he didn't look ready. He sat quietly and ate slowly.
Adrian hummed while he ate, proud of his first attempt. He kept showing off the plate like it was a treasure.
Noah's jaw tightened once, and his eyes flicked down to the way Adrian held my hand. He watched us with a still face. I could see a small hurt in his eyes.
I smiled at Noah and said, "If you want to talk later, I'm here."
He nodded but didn't speak. He ate a little more, but his hands trembled a bit when he folded his napkin. He looked away a lot, toward the window, toward the hallway, anywhere but at Adrian and me.
After breakfast, Adrian cleared the plates and went to wash the pans. He looked happy, proud as ever. He kept humming and whistling while he worked.
Noah stood slowly and walked to his room without saying goodbye. Before he left, he paused at the doorway and looked back at us.
He didn't speak. He just watched Adrian and me for a second, and something soft and sharp moved across his face—jealousy, quiet and small.
Then he turned and closed the door.
Left alone with Adrian, I moved closer and hugged him from the side as he dried a pan. He smelled faintly of flour and cinnamon. He squeezed me back, small and steady.
"You did well," I told him. "Even if the pancakes are a little... questionable."
He laughed. "They tasted better in my head," he said. "But I'll keep practicing. Next time, I promise perfect pancakes."
"I'll be your taste tester," I said. "But make sure you don't eat the batter next time."
He stuck out his tongue like a kid. "No promises."
I stood in the kitchen with the warm smell of batter and flour around us. Adrian kept cleaning, none the wiser. I clung to him warmly, but my thoughts were with Noah. His quiet look stayed with me, heavy and worrying.