Chapter 12
Saturday.
Keisha was ready at 5:42 PM.
And she hated it.
Standing in front of her mirror, arms crossed, she stared at her reflection as if it had betrayed her.
— This is ridiculous… she muttered.
Her outfit was perfect. Of course it was. An elegant dress, simple yet striking, paired with just enough jewelry to catch the light without overdoing it.
But something felt off.
It wasn't armor.
It was… her.
She frowned.
— You're overthinking.
— Or you're feeling something real.
Keisha turned sharply.
Mrs. Clarisse was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that look Keisha hated… because it saw everything.
— Don't start…
— I didn't say anything.
— You didn't have to.
A silence settled.
Then the nanny stepped forward and gently adjusted a strand of her hair.
— You're beautiful.
Keisha looked at her reflection again.
— I know.
A pause.
— But that's not what scares me.
Mrs. Clarisse tilted her head slightly.
— Then what does?
Keisha hesitated.
— Not knowing how this ends.
A soft smile appeared on the nanny's lips.
— That's how real things begin.
A knock echoed downstairs.
They both froze.
Keisha's heart skipped a beat.
— He's early…
— Or you're just not used to someone wanting to see you.
Keisha exhaled softly.
— I hate you.
— No, you don't.
Another knock.
More confident this time.
Mrs. Clarisse walked toward the door.
— Don't keep him waiting too long. Just enough for him to understand who he's dealing with.
A slight smile appeared on Keisha's lips.
— That… I like.
Downstairs, Léandro stood at the door, hands in his pockets, trying to look calm.
The door opened.
— Good evening.
— Good evening, ma'am.
Mrs. Clarisse's gaze scanned him quickly.
— You're on time.
— I said six.
— It's 5:58.
A small smile.
— I didn't want to be late.
She observed him for another second… then stepped aside.
— Come in.
Léandro stepped inside, glancing discreetly around.
Everything was clean. Structured. Controlled.
Like her.
— Nervous? Mrs. Clarisse asked suddenly.
He let out a soft laugh.
— A little.
— Good.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs.
Keisha appeared.
And for the first time…
Léandro said nothing.
He just looked at her.
Really looked.
Keisha noticed.
And for once… she didn't break the silence.
She walked down slowly.
Each step controlled.
But her heart wasn't.
When she reached him, she stopped.
— You're staring.
— I know.
— It's rude.
— I don't care.
A pause.
Then, more softly:
— You're… incredible.
Keisha held his gaze.
— Took you long enough.
He smiled slightly.
— I wanted to make sure I wasn't imagining it.
Mrs. Clarisse cleared her throat lightly.
— I assume you have a plan?
— Yes.
— A good one?
— I hope so.
She crossed her arms.
— She doesn't like disappointment.
— I know.
Keisha raised an eyebrow.
— Oh? You think you know me now?
He looked at her.
— I'm learning.
That made her hesitate.
Just for a second.
— Let's go.
Outside, the evening air was soft.
They walked side by side for a few moments.
No words.
Then—
— Where are we going?
— Surprise.
— I don't like not knowing.
— I know.
She glanced at him.
— You're getting a little too confident.
— Maybe.
She smirked.
— Careful. I might take back control.
He stopped walking.
She turned to him.
— What?
He stepped closer.
— Tonight… I don't want you to.
Silence.
Keisha stared at him.
— What exactly are you asking?
— Just be… Keisha.
Her gaze shifted slightly.
Less sharp.
More… vulnerable.
— And if I don't know how?
He moved a little closer.
— Then we figure it out together.
A beat.
She looked away briefly.
— You make things complicated.
— No… he said softly. I make them real.
She took a slow breath.
Then stepped toward him.
— Fine.
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
— But don't get used to it.
He smiled.
— Too late.
They started walking again.
And for the first time…
It wasn't a performance.
Not a game.
It was a beginning.
walked for a few more minutes.
Keisha stayed silent, but her mind wasn't.
She glanced at him from time to time.
The way he walked. Calm. Confident. Like he already knew how the night would unfold.
— You're thinking too loud, he said without looking at her.
She stopped.
— Excuse me?
He turned slightly, a faint smile on his lips.
— I can hear it from here.
— You're imagining things.
— No. You're analyzing everything. Again.
She crossed her arms.
— That's called being smart.
— That's called not letting go.
A silence.
She stepped closer.
— And you think you can make me "let go" in one evening?
He didn't move.
— No.
Silence.
Then, more softly:
— But I think you want to.
That hit.
She held his gaze… then looked away first.
— You talk too much.
— And you avoid too much.
Before she could reply, he started walking again.
— Come on.
— You're still not going to tell me where we're going?
— No.
— Léandro—
— Trust me.
She stopped again.
— I don't trust easily.
He turned back.
— I know.
A step closer.
— That's why this matters.
Something in his voice…
It wasn't playful anymore.
It was real.
She hesitated.
Then finally—
— Fine.
They turned a corner.
And then—
Keisha slowed down.
— Wait…
In front of them stood a small rooftop restaurant, almost hidden. Soft lights, a warm atmosphere, and a view over the glowing city.
Nothing flashy.
But… perfect.
She turned to him.
— You planned this?
— Maybe.
— Léandro…
For once, she had no sharp reply.
He watched her reaction carefully.
— Too much?
She slowly shook her head.
— No… it's just…
She searched for the right words.
— It's thoughtful.
A slight smile appeared on his lips.
— Good.
They went upstairs.
The place was quiet, almost empty.
A table near the edge.
The city stretched beneath them.
Keisha sat down slowly.
— You really planned this…
— Yeah.
— Since when?
— Since you said yes.
She looked at him.
— So you were sure I would?
— No.
A small smile.
— I just hoped you would.
Silence.
The waiter came, took their order, then left.
Keisha leaned back slightly, studying him.
— This doesn't look like you.
— What do you mean?
— All this effort.
He raised an eyebrow.
— You think I don't make effort?
— Not like this.
A pause.
Then softer:
— Not for just anyone.
He held her gaze.
— You're not "just anyone."
That shook her.
She looked down at her glass.
— You say things like that easily.
— No.
Silence.
— Only with you.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
— That's dangerous.
— Why?
She looked back up.
— Because I might believe you.
He leaned forward slightly.
— Then believe me.
A long silence.
Then—
— Why me? she asked quietly.
He didn't hesitate.
— Because you're not what you show.
She frowned slightly.
— Explain.
— Everyone sees Aïna.
A pause.
— I see the girl who hesitates sometimes before answering.
She froze slightly.
— I don't hesitate.
He smiled softly.
— You just did.
She looked away.
— That doesn't count.
— It does.
Silence again.
But softer.
— And you? she asked. Why do you act like nothing scares you?
He leaned back.
— Who said nothing scares me?
— You.
— I never said that.
She studied him.
— Then what does?
A pause.
Then—
— Losing something real.
That surprised her.
— You already think this is real?
He looked straight into her eyes.
— Don't you?
She didn't answer right away.
Her heart was beating too fast.
— I… don't know yet.
He nodded slowly.
— Fair.
Another silence.
But not uncomfortable.
Just… honest.
The food arrived.
They talked.
About everything.
Not school.
Not reputation.
Just them.
At one point—
She laughed.
Really laughed.
And he noticed.
— What?
— Nothing.
— You're looking at me like that again.
— Like what?
— Like you discovered something.
He smiled.
— I did.
— What?
He leaned slightly closer.
— You're different when you forget to control everything.
She shook her head, smiling.
— Don't get used to it.
— Too late.
Later…
They stood near the edge of the rooftop.
The city lights below them.
The quiet night around them.
Keisha rested her arms on the railing.
— You did well.
— That's all I get?
She glanced at him.
— Don't push it.
He stepped closer.
— So… was it disappointing?
She turned toward him.
Slowly.
— No.
A pause.
— It was… dangerous.
— Still?
— Even more now.
He smiled slightly.
— Good.
She raised an eyebrow.
— You like danger?
— Only when it's you.
Silence.
They were closer now.
— Léandro…
— Yeah?
Her voice dropped.
— If this goes wrong…
— It won't.
— You don't know that.
— I know I won't play with you.
That line.
Again.
Her breath caught slightly.
— You're serious.
— I've always been.
A pause.
Then she stepped closer.
Close enough to feel his breath.
— Then don't disappoint me.
— I won't.
Silence.
His hand lifted slowly.
This time, she didn't pull away.
— You don't ask anymore?
— Do you want me to?
A faint smile.
— No.
He leaned in.
Closer.
Slower.
And this time—
The kiss wasn't hesitant.
It was deeper.
Warmer.
Mutual.
When they pulled apart, she didn't step back.
— This is bad… she whispered.
— Why?
She looked at him.
— Because I'm starting to like you more than I planned.
He smiled softly.
— Good.
She shook her head slightly.
— You're really not scared.
— I am.
— Of what?
He looked at her.
— That you'll run away when it becomes real.
She held his gaze.
— I don't run.
A pause.
— I control.
— Not tonight.
Silence.
Then she smiled.
Soft.
Real.
— Not tonight.