The conversation at the table had shifted—laughter and lighthearted chatter filling the space as Agatha’s friends slowly let their worries fade. She could feel it, the way their attention drifted from her, how they no longer exchanged glances as if expecting her to break. It was a relief, really. She let herself sink into the moment, listening as Ezra and Allison bickered over something trivial, while Connor chimed in with dramatic remarks that earned him collective groans.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement in the distance. Her heart skipped in relief. Koray, her ever-reliable brother, had arrived. And for the first time in a long while, she let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—things could go back to the way they were before Donovan started stalking her. 

Koray would surely know what to do. If he wanted, he could silence her stalker forever—and nothing was stopping him. A real smile crept onto her face as she straightened, the tension in her shoulders easing with every step he took. He moved with that effortless confidence of his, naturally drawing attention, and Agatha couldn’t help but think—finally.

Her brother was made for handling people like Donovan. Sharp, observant, and unshakably composed, he had a way of catching every detail in a conversation and slipping into any setting like a seasoned actor. If anyone could get things under control, it was him.

Take today, for example, Agatha had once joked that her friends probably saw her as some kind of trust fund kid, and Koray had taken that as a personal challenge. Now, he looked every bit the part—sharp, polished, like the heir to a luxury empire. He truly looked like the kind of person who didn’t just wear expensive clothes but someone who had them tailored specifically for him. 

Her unyielding brother always had impeccable timing, and just seeing him there made everything feel more manageable, like the chaos in her mind was finally beginning to settle. As if proving her point, he moved through the crowd with effortless ease—naturally, unbothered, his path aligning perfectly with where Donovan was sitting.

"Wow, he’s got that ‘I own the place’ vibe," Ezra remarked, raising an eyebrow.

Agatha rolled her eyes, but the amused smirk tugging at her lips gave her away. "That’s my big brother," she said, her voice amused. "Master of first impressions."

Still, she had braced herself for at least a little awkwardness when introducing Koray to her friends. Maybe some stiff nods, a hesitant exchange of pleasantries before the conversation fizzled out—then he’d excuse himself to deal with Donovan. 

But, to her surprise, her introverted brother adapted effortlessly, slipping into the conversation with the perfect balance of warmth and confidence—polite, yet never overly familiar. It was that quiet, unshakable charisma that made people instinctively respect him, even if they couldn’t quite explain why—the same presence that, in the gang, had earned him a loyal following, with some even believing he should be the one in charge.

"Nice to finally meet you all," he said smoothly, slipping into the empty seat between Agatha and Connor.

Her friends followed his example and introduced themselves, but Agatha didn’t miss the subtle shifts in their postures—Connor straightened ever so slightly, Allison tilted her head in curiosity, and even Ezra, who usually treated new people with indifference, seemed… interested.

The tension that had clung to her all morning loosened further. With Koray here, their focus naturally shifted, as if reassured that whatever had been bothering her was finally fading. She let herself relax, leaning back as the conversation carried on with ease.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Allison to break the moment with one of her usual comments. "You know," she mused, swirling the ice in her pink drink, "you look exactly how I pictured Agatha’s brother. Too put together. It’s kind of annoying."

Koray chuckled, completely unfazed drinking his coffee. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

Before Agatha could roll her eyes, Connor’s expression lit up. "Wait—you got a vanilla iced latte with cinnamon? That’s my order."

Koray smirked. "Excellent taste."

"Obviously." Without hesitation, Connor leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Okay, but have you ever tried it with an extra shot of espresso? It adds a little—"

Agatha barely had time to react before Connor reached for Koray’s drink. And worse—her own flesh and blood actually let him take a sip. No. No, no, no. Was that an indirect kiss between her brother and her best friend? Ew.

Koray, to his credit, remained perfectly composed, sipping his coffee like he hadn’t just been thrown into a rom-com subplot Agatha had zero interest in witnessing. Connor, meanwhile, just nodded in approval, as if this were some kind of profound bonding moment with his lost soulmate.

But it was all background noise compared to what really mattered.

Across the yard, Donovan looked like he was about to faint. Agatha’s lips curled slightly, though the satisfaction was fleeting. Because as much as she enjoyed his suffering, something about the way he was watching unsettled her more than usual.

She wanted to ignore him. Really, she did. Pretend he was nothing more than a bug on a tree—insignificant, barely worth noticing. But noooooo, every time Connor so much as glanced at Koray, Donovan’s expression darkened like he was about to combust.

Her fingers twitched against her shirt, irritation creeping back. What the hell was his problem? After weeks of studying his every move, she thought she had him figured out—paranoia, resentment, that sharp awareness that never let her relax.

But right now? He looked… blindsided.

And that was new.

For weeks, she had analyzed him, picked apart his every move, read the tension in his stance, the paranoia in his eyes. And yet—this time—his expression was different. Something Agatha had never seen before.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She saw it in the slight parting of Donovan’s lips, in the absent way he twirled a pen between his fingers. That look—she had seen it before. And she hated that, on some level, she recognized it. She had thought he was just a stalker, not a pervert.

Her jaw tightened. Was he seriously getting hot over Koray and Connor’s interactions? Absolutely disgusting. 

As if watching her like a vulture wasn’t bad enough, now he had this reaction to her brother and her classmate? Her stomach twisted with revulsion. She forced herself to look away, quickly schooling her expression into something neutral. But the bitterness had already settled deep in her chest. 

This was not how today was supposed to go. 

And yet, despite herself, she knew they could use that revolting emotion to their advantage. Agatha wanted to scream. Or vanish. Preferably both. But the conversation around her continued, her friends blissfully unaware of the nauseating way their stalker was watching them.

"So, you work in finance?" Connor leaned forward, clearly invested. "You must have the patience of a saint. I tried handling my own budget once, and it ended with me crying in front of a spreadsheet."

"I wouldn’t say patience. More like an unhealthy need for control." Koray smirked, stirring his drink with an effortless precision—exactly the same way Agatha always did. Watching him was like seeing her own reflection. It was disturbing for her friends.

The way Koray and Agatha moved—so in sync, their sharp wit and unbothered demeanor feeding off each other—made their bond undeniable, almost too perfect. Even in casual conversation, they unknowingly mirrored one another, effortlessly drawing people in. It was almost like they had practiced all their lives.

Allison and Ezra exchanged a glance. "This is amazing," she whispered, taking a sip of her drink, her gaze flicking between the siblings with barely contained excitement. "I feel like we’re witnessing a rare natural phenomenon."

But Connor seemed oblivious to the similarities between them, too captivated by Koray’s mysterious charm to notice anything else. His eyes practically sparkled, hanging on every word Koray said. When Koray gave his passionate answer, Connor’s expression shifted to mock horror, but his tone betrayed his fascination. "Ugh, but why finances? Capitalism sucks," he added, clearly more interested in what Koray would say next than the topic itself.

"It’s just a game of strategy. Numbers, market trends—they can all be predicted and manipulated with the right knowledge. It gives me control over uncertainty." Koray sighed, almost fondly, making Agatha giggle. Her brother was such a great improv actor.

"You know, Connor, I could help you make a custom budget plan," Koray offered, half-seriously. "It might help you avoid future financial breakdowns."

Connor threw an arm over his new friend’s shoulders in a snug side-hug, and Koray didn’t seem to mind. But Donovan definitely did. She caught the way his fingers twitched around his phone, the barely concealed tension in his jaw. Was that jealousy? Or was he imagining naughty things in that twisted mind of his?

"Are you offering to fix my life?" Connor joked, leaning even more into Koray’s personal space. "Because if so, I might start crying."

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," Koray deadpanned. "I don’t have that kind of power."

Agatha exhaled sharply, fighting the urge to bury her face in her hands. Of course, with every word, Connor leaned in closer, as if he’d just discovered his long-lost soulmate. Meanwhile, Donovan’s gaze only grew more intense, adding to the pressure already weighing on her. Koray, however, seemed completely unfazed. He slipped effortlessly into the dynamic, as if he’d always been a part of it.

Allison and Ezra, delighted by the situation, seemed to miss the tension altogether. Clearly, their best friend had found someone new to flirt with, and, surprisingly, Agatha didn’t mind it was her brother. But despite the casual atmosphere, her thoughts kept returning to Donovan. The intensity of his stare was only getting worse.

No amount of calm from Koray could quell the discomfort of Donovan’s lurking presence. There, just beyond the laughter of her friends, he hovered, like a storm waiting to break. It was enough to sour her mood entirely. She could only hope Koray had noticed it, too.

Agatha forced herself to focus on the conversation, trying to block out the suffocating weight of Donovan’s gaze. It was hard to concentrate when she could practically feel the heat of his stare burning into the back of her head. She wanted to tell him to just leave already, but making a scene would only make things worse. So, instead, she shifted her attention to Koray, grateful for the way he was seamlessly holding his own, keeping the group engaged. For now, at least, he was her shield.