Two days later.

Dominic wasn’t entirely sure what excuse he’d given himself to end up here.

He told himself he was just… stopping in to see Collins about something. A business thing, maybe. Something vague enough to sound plausible. Something sterile enough to be believable. But even as the lie formed, Dominic knew it for what it was: a thin veil, flimsy and already unraveling.

The moment the soft bell above the door chimed and the warm, sugar-sweet air of Ciel curled around him, he felt it—the pull. A low, gnawing itch beneath his ribs.

He gritted his teeth.

He didn’t greet anyone. Didn’t nod. Just stepped inside like the air didn’t cling to his coat, like the saccharine scent didn’t immediately make him think of him.

And then he saw him.

God help him. He saw him.

Sasha.

Curled in the corner booth—his booth—like a stray cat that had claimed the sunniest windowsill. A half-demolished slice of cake in front of him, crumbs on his lips, the tip of his tongue peeking out to swipe frosting from his thumb.

His hair was fluffier than Dominic remembered, a chaotic halo of soft curls sticking up in every direction like he’d just rolled out of bed and hadn’t thought to tame it. A cropped pink hoodie slung loose over one shoulder, pale skin peeking out beneath the collar. Socks pulled to his calves, little sneakers swinging under the table with idle joy.

Dominic's jaw flexed.

The boy looked more like a child than a man—a walking temptation for every terrible, unkind thing this world could offer. And yet somehow, despite the cotton-candy aesthetic and unbothered joy in his smile, something about Sasha twisted deep in his gut. A coil of heat and frustration. Of want. Of warning.

He should’ve walked away.

Instead, his feet carried him forward like a slow, inevitable tide.

Sasha looked up at the last second—and his whole face lit up like morning sun.

“You’re here!”

He beamed, hopping to his knees on the seat, hands grabbing at Dominic’s coat sleeve like they were old friends instead of whatever-the-hell they were.

“Oh my gosh, it’s sooo nice to see you again, grumpy bear. I thought maybe you weren’t gonna come back!”

Dominic stopped, hovering awkwardly at the booth, his expression unreadable.

He hated that name.

He hated that nickname. He hated how easily Sasha threw it around like it belonged to him, like he belonged to him.

But he sat down anyway.

Sasha pouted.

“You didn’t even say bye last time,” he scolded gently, tugging Dominic further in. “That’s sooo rude, you know! Didn’t your mama teach you manners?”

Dominic slid into the booth with the stiffness of a man about to regret everything.

His voice came out low, sharp. “I regret walking in here already.”

“Liar,” Sasha said with zero hesitation.

Dominic blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re lying,” Sasha repeated, wagging his fork. “If you really regretted it, you would’ve walked away already. But you didn’t. So there.”

Dominic narrowed his eyes. But his mouth twitched.

Sasha giggled.

It was the worst sound. Bright. Giddy. Full of something Dominic didn’t recognize anymore.

“You’re so funny,” Sasha chirped between bites of cake.

“I’m not funny.”

“See? So funny.”

Dominic pinched the bridge of his nose.

And then Sasha was suddenly holding out a forkful of cake.

“Here!” he said brightly. “Try some! You’ll love it!”

Dominic stared at the fork like it had personally insulted his ancestors.

“Not a chance,” he said.

“C’monnnn, don’t be a sour grump. Say ahhh—”

“Absolutely not.”

And still Sasha giggled. Wiggled the fork. Giggled more.

Dominic was going to lose his mind.

That’s when Collins arrived.

He paused mid-step when he saw Dominic.

“...Dominic?”

Sasha blinked. Then gasped.

“Dom…inic?” he repeated. “Ohhh, that so suits you! Grumpy Dominic! Or Grumpy Dom! Grumpy Dom-Dom!”

Collins burst out laughing.

“Grumpy Dom-Dom,” he choked. “That’s good.”

Dominic turned a death glare on his brother.

“Collins."

Sasha just clapped his hands. “It’s perfect. Dom-Dom.”

“What the hell kind of name is Sasha?” Dominic muttered. “Sounds like a spoiled cat.”

Sasha gasped. Flipped him off with frosting on his fingers.

“You’re just mad I’m cuter than you.”

Dominic scowled. But he didn’t leave.

He could have.

He should have.

But he stayed.

Because something about Sasha—his softness, his nerve, his relentless joy—itched beneath Dominic’s skin like a splinter too deep to reach. And Dominic’s brain—always cold, always analytical—couldn’t stop calculating him. Trying to file him into a box. But Sasha didn’t fit anywhere. He bent the shape of logic.

He was the wrong puzzle piece.

And Dominic couldn’t look away.

The sweets arrived. Sasha squealed with joy. Dominic insulted him. Sasha laughed. Collins shook his head and walked off.

Then there was silence.

Just them.

Just the weight of Dominic’s stare, and the way Sasha propped his chin in his hands, watching him with unflinching warmth.

“You always that loud?” Dominic asked.

Sasha grinned. “Mhm. Got a lot to say. People to say it to.”

Dominic snorted. “Doesn’t mean they want to hear it.”

“You’re still here, though,” Sasha said, softly.

And Dominic’s heart did something unfamiliar. Off-kilter. A quiet, internal clench.

He didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

“You’re not as scary as you want people to think you are,” Sasha whispered, almost to himself.

Dominic stared at him. Long. Hard. But Sasha didn’t flinch.

He didn’t know what he was saying. Couldn’t possibly know.

If he did, he wouldn’t be smiling like that. Wouldn’t be breathing the same air.

Dominic’s thoughts darkened. Flashed back to years buried in control. Violence. Cold calculations. Things he’d done and things he would do again in a heartbeat.

He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t soft. He was a blade honed too sharp. A tool with no off-switch. A man who kept people safe by keeping them far away.

And yet…

This boy.

This thing, with his frosting fingers and swinging feet, was right here.

Unafraid.

“Being mean just makes you lonely,” Sasha had said.

And that, more than anything, stayed with him.

Dominic didn’t speak.

He just looked.

Watched.

And stayed.

Because something inside him—deep, buried, and starved for light—wanted to know what it felt like to be near that warmth.

Even if just for a while.