Back home, Zack unlocks the front door and kicks off his shoes without enthusiasm. The sun is barely beginning to lighten the sky through the living room curtains. He heads straight for his bedroom and collapses onto the unmade bed fully clothed. His phone lies charging on the nightstand, displaying a single email from Anna, "Good morning." His fingers tremble slightly as he reaches for the phone, unlocking it to read her simple greeting. The two words carry more weight than any elaborate poem could convey. For a moment, the loneliness that plagued him earlier melts away, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest. He types out a quick reply without thinking twice: "Morning. You are already awake?" Setting the phone down beside him on the mattress, Zack closed his eyes and lets out a slow breath. the lingering scent of cheap coffee and bacon clings to his sweatshirt, but it is grounding somehow– proof that he survived another late-night battle with his demons.
Anna sent a quick replay via email. "Well, we have a study date at seven, so I got up a bit earlier." Zack's green eyes snap open at the notification buzzing on his phone. he looked at the time, 6:30 pm. Thirty minutes. "Shit," he muttered out loud to the empty room. Scrambling out of bed, he stumbles toward the bathroom, stripping off his sweaty clothes as he goes. The mirror reflects a dishevelled mess– pale skin, bloodshot eyes, messy blond hair standing on end from running his fingers through it repeatedly. "Study date," he mutters to his reflection while turning on the shower. "Right. History notes. Textbooks." Underneath the stream of hot water, he tries to focus on history fact and dates he didn't care about right now. All his brain wants to do is replay those words from Anna: "We have a study date."
The hot water does little to clear Zack's head. His thoughts keep drifting back to Anna– the way she worries about his lack of sleep. The gentle tone in her emails, the memory of her laugh echoing through his mind. "Focus, idiot," he mutters to himself, scrubbing shampoo into his wet hair with more force than necessary. "She is waiting for you to discuss history facts." Thirty minutes later, dressed in clean jeans and a hoodie that smells vaguely like laundry detergent instead of diner grease, Zack grabs his backpack containing scattered history notes. He checks his phone one last time before rushing out the door. The morning air is cooler that expected as he jogs down the sidewalk toward Anna's house. Her front porch light is on, casting a welcoming glow onto the neatly trimmed lawn. Through the living room window, he can see movement– probably Anna gathering supplies for their study session.
As Zack walked toward Anna's front door, the door opened and Anna came out wearing his plain bleu jersey and a simple white skirt. She has her purple backpack slung over her shoulders. The sight of Anna in his blue jersey again, stops him mid-stride on the sidewalk. His jaw tightens involuntarily, a mix of possessiveness and something warmer flooding through him. "Hey," he calls out, forcing his voice to sound casual despite the sudden tension in his shoulders. "You are already packed and ready to go." He adjusts the strap of his own backpack, approaching her doorway with measured steps. "You look…" he pauses searching for the right word. "Comfortable." The compliment comes out gruffer than intended, but Zack can't seem to find a smoother version.
Anna smiled lightly and closes the front door behind her, before walking towards him and kissing him on his cheek. "Good morning," she says happily. "You look good too." Zack's posture relaxes at the sweet morning kiss, his shoulders dropping from their defensive line. The warmth of her lips on his cheek sends a pleasant jolt through him, chasing away the lingering anxiety from his nightmare and late-night conversation with Lara at the diner. "Morning," he returns, his voice losing its gruff edge as he leans into her space instinctively. His free hand finds her waist, pulling her closer against him despite their study plans looming ahead. "You are always too nice to me." His thumb traces the hem of his jersey hanging loosely on her frame, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Stealing my jersey now? Going to start charging you rent for borrowing it." The teasing remark comes naturally, born from years of bickering with Anna. But underneath it lies genuine affection– seeing her wearing something of his feels strangely intimate in ways he can't quite articulate.
Anna cups his cheek. "You look tired," she notes sweetly. "Trouble sleeping?" Zack's breath catches slightly at her gentle touch, her palms warm against his skin. Her concern is written clearly in her expressive brown eyes, and for a moment her considers brushing it off with a joke or deflection. Then he remembered Lara's words from earlier: "Start small." He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly as if drawing strength from Anna's simple act of caring. "Yeah," he admits quietly, his voice lower than usual. "Bad dream last night." He opens his eyes again, meeting her worried gaze directly. The vulnerability in his expression is rare– normally he would mask it with sarcasm or irritation. "It was about my mom," he adds reluctantly, watching for Anna's reaction. "Happened sometimes when I was younger too, but not recently." His hand tightens slightly on her waist, anchoring himself to the present moment and the reality of her presence in front of him. The morning sunlight filters through nearby trees, casting dappled shadows across their faces as they stand on her porch.
"Oh, Zack. I am so sorry," Anna said softly. "Do you want to talk about it?" Zack's throat tightens at the sincerity in her voice, her immediate empathy cutting through years of practiced emotional distance. No one else has ever offered to listen without judgment or pressure. "Not really," he answers honestly, shaking his head slightly against her hand cupping his cheek. "There is not much to say. Same dream I always have– happy memories from when she was alive." He swallows hard, forcing himself to meet Anna's concerned gaze.