Chapter 8 #2
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”
“Only a little.”
“That was years of education.”
“Oh, I can tell.”
I folded my arms. “Well then. You can teach me something more useful.”
Stefan tilted his head. “Careful,” he said. “You might regret that.”
We paused near one of the enclosures, watching a group of animals lazing in the afternoon sun.
I frowned. “What are those?”
“Capybaras.”
“I’m going to need the German for that.”
Stefan didn’t hesitate. “Wasserschwein.”
I blinked. “Water… pig?”
“Yes.”
I looked back at the animal, then at Stefan. “You’re making that up.”
He widened his eyes. “I’m not, I promise.” He pointed to the info panel. “Check it there if you don’t believe me.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I don’t trust this language.”
Stefan laughed. “Oh, it gets worse.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
He pulled out his phone and typed. Then he handed it to me.
I peered at the screen and read aloud, “Verschlimbesserung. What does that mean?”
“Simply put, it’s a failed, well-intentioned fix that results in a net negative outcome.”
I blinked. “Can you run that by me again? In English, this time?”
He stroked his beard. “Okay, what about… a homeowner is fixing a tile on his roof and ends up going through the roof and causing massive amounts of damage.” His face brightened.
“Here’s an actual example. The government in India attempted to reduce its cobra population by offering a reward for dead snakes.
But what happened was that people starting breeding cobras, then killed them to claim the reward—thus increasing the number of cobras in the country. ”
“So Germans have one word to describe when someone tries to improve something but actually ends up making it worse?” I rolled my eyes. “I think I’ll stick with ‘I have a pencil.’”
“Very wise.” Stefan smiled. “I’ll teach you some useful words at some point.”
I chuckled. “I can’t wait.”
By the time we reached the exit, the light had shifted. The afternoon had softened into early evening, the edges of the day blurring into something warmer, its pace slower.
I paused outside the gates, glancing around as if orientating myself again.
“That was…” I began, then stopped.
“Better than you expected?” Stefan suggested.
I smiled. “Yes. Exactly that.”
Stefan watched me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad.”
Silence settled between us, not awkward but more… open.
This day could end right here.
It probably should.
I looked him in the eye. “Thank you for showing me around.”
Stefan inclined his head slightly. “You’re welcome.” He paused, and I was overwhelmed with the sense that this moment was about to close.
“Would you like to join me for a drink?” Stefan asked. His tone was casual.
That wasn’t how it made me feel.
I could say no. I could go back to the apartment and have dinner with Karl, let the day settle into something simple, contained.
Sensible.
Instead, I heard myself say, “Yes.”
Stefan smiled.
“There’s a place not far from here,” he said. “Hildegard Bar. It’s quiet, and they make good cocktails.”
“Lead the way,” I said.
Before I change my mind.
The bar was dimly lit, the shift from daylight immediate and almost disorientating.
The ceiling was impressive, a curved structure made of wooden joists.
Lamps sat on tables, their hemispherical marbled shades resembling some kind of translucent egg.
Music played quietly, and voices were low.
It was the sort of place where people leaned closer without realising they were doing it.
We found a small table near the back, close enough for conversation without raising our voices.
Too close, perhaps.
“What would you like?” Stefan asked.
“I’ll trust your judgment.”
He smiled. “That’s a dangerous thing to say.”
Something flickered in my chest. “Is it?”
He held my gaze for a moment. “It could be.” Then he went over to the bar to order.
I exhaled quietly.
What am I doing here?
Except I already knew the answer to that.
I just wasn’t ready to admit what I was hoping might happen next.
When Stefan returned, he set the glass in front of me. “Try this. It’s a pineapple rum sour.”
I reached for it and our fingers brushed, a brief accidental connection.
Okay, maybe not so accidental.
I took a sip. It was sharper than I expected, but with a warmth that lingered.
I glanced at him. “That’s good.”
“I thought you might like it.”
Our eyes met, and neither of us looked away.
There was no mistaking it now.
The atmosphere had shifted. The easy rhythm of the afternoon had given way to something slower, more deliberate.
I became aware of everything.
The space between us felt too small. Stefan leaned forwards, his forearms resting on the table, closing the distance. His gaze lingered on my face. His voice seemed lower, his tone more intimate.
“You’re different here,” he said.
I frowned. “Different how?”
Stefan tilted his head, studying me. “Less guarded. Or perhaps just… less certain what you’re supposed to be.”
And there was that tightening in my chest again. “Is it that obvious?”
“To me,” he said. There was a pause before his gaze flicked briefly to my mouth, then back to my eyes.
Slow enough that I noticed.
That I understood.
My pulse quickened, and I set my glass down carefully.
“And what do you think I’m supposed to be?”
Stefan smiled. “I don’t think that matters.” Another pause, and then his voice was more gentle. “What matters is what you want.”
I swallowed. “What if I don’t know?”
Stefan didn’t look away. “Then you find out.”
A tremor rippled through me. “How?”
“By not running from it.”
My breathing hitched. “That sounds too simple.”
“It can be,” he acknowledged. “If you stop trying to get it right.” His gaze held mine. “What do you want right now, Kieran?”
My name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine.
I opened my mouth to answer him, then stopped.
I did know, at least part of it.
“I—”
Stefan leaned back then, breaking the moment before it tipped too far.
“We should eat,” he said.
For a second, I simply looked at him.
Relief came first, sharp and immediate, unwinding something tight in my chest I hadn’t fully registered until it was gone. It was followed almost instantly by another emotion.
Disappointment.
His question still hung there between us, unanswered.
I let out a slow breath, reaching for my glass more for something to do with my hands than anything else.
“Right.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “Yes. Food. Sensible.”
Stefan smiled as if he heard everything I hadn’t said.
The moment shifted again, not gone, merely… waiting.