The afternoon light slanted through the hallway windows, painting long golden rectangles across the polished hardwood floors. Athena's schoolbag hit the ground with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the too-quiet house. One month. Thirty days. The numbers echoed in her head as she climbed the stairs, her footsteps unnaturally loud in the silence.
The master bedroom door was slightly ajar. She raised her hand to knock, the motion automatic, but paused when she heard movement inside. Her knuckles connected with the wood-three sharp raps that sounded like gunshots in the stillness.
The door swung inward and Lucas stood there, backlit by the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. He looked... rumpled. His usually perfect hair was slightly mussed, and he'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing forearms that seemed more muscular than she remembered.
Oh.. you're home early, Athena?" His voice had that faint rasp she'd always found strangely appealing.
The scent of her mother's perfume lingered around him-that expensive jasmine and sandalwood blend that usually made her feel safe. Today it just made her chest tight.
"Yes..Did mom leave for her trip?" She tried to keep her voice casual, but it came out smaller than she intended.
Lucas hesitated for a moment, glancing back into the room before turning to her with an awkward smile. "Uh, yeah... she left this morning. You didn't get to say goodbye?" He shifted his weight nervously, one hand still holding the doorknob. The bed behind him was perfectly made, military-corners tight.
"No she didn't wake me up." The words tasted like betrayal. Her mother had slipped away in the dark, just like she always did.
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely concerned. "That's... not like her. She usually makes a big deal about saying goodbye." He paused, then added quietly, "Maybe she didn't want to wake you up too early?" His voice trailed off uncertainly.
Athena nodded, her throat too tight for words. She could see past him into the room-her mother's nightstand was clear except for the lamp, his side scattered with loose change and car keys. He's already moved in.
Lucas gave her a small, sympathetic smile before glancing at his watch. "Well... I was just cleaning up here. You hungry? I could make us some early dinner." He stepped aside slightly, giving her a clearer view of the neatly made bed behind him. The space between them felt charged, electric.
"I can help you with the chopping." The offer slipped out before she could reconsider it.
Lucas blinked in surprise, then chuckled softly as he stepped fully out of the room, closing the door behind him. "You remembered I was making stir-fry tonight, huh?" He ruffled her hair lightly, his fingers brushing against her scalp for just a second too long. "Alright, sous-chef, let's see those knife skills.
"yes." Her face flushed hot, and she ducked her head, focusing on the pattern of the hallway runner.
Lucas noticed her blush and quickly pulled his hand back, clearing his throat. "Uh... kitchen's this way." He gestured down the hall, avoiding direct eye contact as his own ears turned slightly pink. "I'll grab the veggies."
She nodded again, following him down the stairs. The kitchen smelled of lemon cleaner and something else-maybe his cologne, something clean and masculine that made her want to lean closer.
Lucas led the way to the kitchen, grabbing an apron and tying it hastily around his waist. "So... how was school today?" he asked, pulling out a cutting board and vegetables, his voice a bit too casual as he tried to fill the sudden silence.
"Yeah it was great senior year is something else." She watched his hands as he arranged the vegetables-carrots, bell peppers, onions. His fingers were long, capable. She'd never noticed the small scar across his knuckle before.
Lucas smiled genuinely as he handed her a knife, his earlier awkwardness fading. "Senior year, huh? I remember that feeling - everything's ending but also just the beginning." He started washing vegetables, glancing at her sideways. "Got any big plans after graduation?"
"Not yet." The knife felt heavy in her hand, the handle still warm from his grip.
Lucas nodded thoughtfully as he dried his hands on a towel. "That's okay - you've got time to figure it out." He passed her a bell pepper. "For now, let's focus on not turning this stir-fry into a disaster, yeah?" His tone was light, teasing.
She remained silent, turning the pepper over in her hands. The skin was smooth, cool.
Lucas chuckled at her silence, carefully demonstrating how to julienne the pepper before handing it back. "There, like that. And don't worry - even if we mess up, we can always order pizza." He winked, clearly trying to keep the mood light.
"Can you teach me?" The question hung between them, heavier than it should have been.
Lucas stepped closer behind her, gently guiding her hands with the knife. "Like this - small, controlled motions." His voice was soft near her ear as he demonstrated the proper cutting technique, careful not to actually touch her beyond what's necessary for instruction. "See? Not too hard once you get the rhythm."
His chest was almost against her back, not touching but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. She could smell the clean scent of his shampoo, something with mint and cedar. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
I stepped back into his arm. The movement was slight, almost accidental, but the contact sent a jolt through her. The solid warmth of his forearm against her back, the way his breath caught-
Lucas froze when she stepped back against him, his breath hitching slightly. "Uh... Athena..." he started, voice low and uncertain, but didn't immediately pull away, his hands hovering awkwardly near hers on the cutting board.
"yes?" I looked up at him with my innocent expression. Her heart was beating so fast she thought he must be able to hear it.
Lucas swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he took a careful step back. "We should... uh... focus on the vegetables," he stammered, turning abruptly to grab a bowl, his movements suddenly clumsy. "Safety first with knives and all that."
She nodded and started chopping the vegetables like he taught me. "see like this." The knife moved smoothly through the pepper, creating perfect matchsticks. Her hands weren't shaking at all, which surprised her.
Lucas watched her technique with a proud smile, though he still kept a careful distance. "Yeah, exactly like that - you're a natural." He busied himself with the stove, turning on the burner with slightly shaky hands. "We'll make a chef out of you yet."
I stood beside him as we made dinner. The sizzle of vegetables hitting hot oil filled the kitchen, along with the scent of garlic and ginger. He moved around her with a dancer's awareness, never quite touching but always conscious of where she was.
Lucas kept glancing at her sideways as they worked together, his movements deliberate and measured. "You know... your mom would be proud of you," he said quietly after a while, stirring the sizzling vegetables with more focus than necessary. "You're growing up so fast."
The words felt like a physical blow. "She only loves her work not her daughter." The bitterness in her voice surprised even her.
Lucas paused mid-stir, turning to look at her with genuine concern. "Hey... that's not true." He lowered the heat on the stove before continuing gently, "She talks about you all the time when she's away. Miss you like crazy."
"You don't know her like I do." The knife felt cold in her hand now.
Lucas set the spatula down and turned fully toward her, his expression softening. "Families are complicated, kiddo." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But I do know she loves you - even if she's not always great at showing it."
"You don't know how I spent my childhood with my mother." I sigh and rubbed my forehead
Lucas held up his hands in surrender, nodding slowly. "You're right, I don't." He turned back to the stove, voice quieter now. "Just... try not to be too hard on her, okay? Or yourself." The sizzle of the stir-fry filled the sudden silence.
The smell of cooking food that had seemed comforting moments ago now felt cloying, oppressive. "you only care about her." The accusation hung in the air between them, ugly and true.
Lucas spun around so fast he nearly knocked over the pan, his eyes wide. "That's not-" He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "Athena, I care about both of you. More than you know." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
The vulnerability in his voice should have comforted her. Instead, it made everything worse. "I am not hungry anymore." The words tasted like ash. I walked out of the kitchen, leaving him standing there with the spatula in his hand, the food still sizzling angrily in the pan.
Lucas reached out but stopped himself, letting his hand fall to his side as she left. "Athena, wait-" His voice was thick with emotion, but the sizzling pan forced him to stay put. He turned off the burner with a frustrated sigh, running both hands through his hair.
***
Later that night, Athena lay on her bed pretending to sleep when her bedroom door opened. The hallway light cast a long rectangle across her floor, and she kept her breathing even, her eyes closed to slits. The floorboards creaked under careful weight, and she could smell him-that clean scent of mint and cedar, now mixed with the lingering aroma of the dinner she'd abandoned.
The door clicked shut, plunging the room back into darkness, but she could still feel his presence there in the silence.