ten
Aaliyah's POV
Zaria and Caleb finally leave after an hour of yelling, diagnosing my hangover, and whisper-screaming about Leo like he was a mythological creature who delivered offerings.
The moment the door closes, my apartment goes quiet.
Too quiet.
I stare at my phone.
At his message.
Leo:
You get home okay?
I bite my lip, re-reading it like a SIM who needs to max her logic skill.
Then, on impulse (and maybe on lingering vodka fumes), I type:
Me:
yeah. thanks 4 checking in
also... thank you 4 the stuff u brought
ur literally a lifesaver
I stare at it.
Is that too much?
Not enough?
Should I stop typing like a teenager?
Too late.
He replies almost instantly.
Leo:
You're welcome.
How's your head?
My stomach flips.
HE CARES.
Me:
hurts ??
i feel like a rotisserie chicken
just spinning on a stick
There's a long pause.
Then:
Leo:
...
I don't even know what that means.
But drink water.
I giggle into my pillow like a child.
Me:
are u busy today?
I freeze.
DELETE DELETE DELETE-
A bubble appears.
Too late.
Leo:
No. Why?
I panic.
Me:
no reason
just asking
totally normal question
A beat.
Then:
Leo:
You want company?
I choke on air.
Me:
idk
maybe
like not to hang out hang out
just...
company
Smooth.
Breathtakingly smooth.
Another pause.
Then:
Leo:
I can swing by.
If you want.
My heart SLAMS against my ribs.
He wants to see me.
He wants to see me.
Me:
actually...
maybe a walk?
i need air
and sunlight
Leo:
Meet you outside your building in ten.
TEN???
OH MY GOD.
?
I scramble off the couch, brush my teeth, splash cold water on my face, and throw on leggings and a big hoodie because I'm not trying to seduce him today-I'm trying to survive.
I check the mirror.
I look soft.
Warm.
A little sleepy.
Curly hair in a loose messy puff.
Whatever.
It works.
I head downstairs and step outside.
And then I see him.
Leaning against the railing.
Hood up.
Hands in pockets.
Head tilted like he's deep in thought.
Looking annoyingly good for someone who "doesn't try."
He straightens when he sees me.
And something in his eyes softens.
"You good?" he asks.
I nod. "Headache is like... 60% gone."
He falls into step beside me as we start walking down the quiet campus pathway. The air is warm. Birds are chirping.
He glances over. "You shouldn't drink that much."
"I was happy."
"You were drunk," he corrects calmly.
"You were staring."
He stops walking.
Just stops.
I freeze too.
He turns his head slightly toward me, eyes dark but soft around the edges.
"I wasn't staring," he says.
Pause.
"But I wasn't not staring either."
My brain melts.
He starts walking again, slower this time.
"You danced a lot," he mutters.
"You watched a lot," I tease quietly.
His chest rises once-big inhale-like I'm testing the limits of his sanity.
"Where'd you learn to talk like that?" he mutters.
I shrug. "The vodka taught me."
He huffs a tiny laugh. "Figures."
We walk in silence for a moment.
But it's not awkward.
It's... heavy.
Charged.
Like there's a question floating between us.
Finally, I ask it.
"You don't like parties?"
"No," he says simply.
"Then why'd you go?"
He hesitates.
Looks straight ahead.
Jaw flexes.
Then he answers so quietly I almost don't hear it:
"I thought you might be there."
My heart stops.
Actually stops.
I stare at him. "Leo..."
He continues, voice low and even:
"I don't like crowds. I don't like noise. I don't like being around drunk guys acting stupid."
His hands stay in his pockets, shoulders tense.
"But I walked in, and I saw you..."
His voice dips.
"And I didn't mind it as much."
I stop walking.
He stops too.
We face each other.
My voice wobbles. "You really came because of me?"
His eyes lock onto mine.
Unblinking.
Unapologetic.
Intense.
"Yes."
My pulse skyrockets.
He steps just a little closer.
Not too close.
Just enough.
"You scared me last night," he admits softly. "You were drunk. Guys were looking. I didn't like it."
"Why?" I whisper.
He doesn't hide it.
Not this time.
"Aaliyah," he says, voice deep and rough, "stop making me say things you already know."
Heat explodes in my chest.
I take a tiny step closer, heart slamming.
"You didn't have to walk me home," I murmur.
He swallows. "I wanted to."
"You didn't have to bring me anything today."
"I wanted to."
"You didn't have to come see me."
His voice drops to a whisper.
We stare at each other.
Wind soft.
Sun warm.
Campus quiet.
I feel-
Seen.
Desired.
Safe.
Dangerously close to something real.
His eyes drop to my lips.
My breath catches.
He leans forward-
Just slightly.
Just enough to make my heart seize-
Then stops.
Not because he doesn't want to.
Because he's trying not to.
He exhales shakily and looks away.
"We should walk more," he mutters.
But his voice sounds wrecked.
And my legs feel like jelly.
We start walking again, but now our arms brush with every step.
He doesn't move away.
Neither do I.
And for the first time...
I think I know exactly where all of this is heading.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Dangerously.
Straight into each other.