The mixer’s sound woke Ronan.
He pulled the blanket off his face, blinking against the morning light. Half-asleep, he turned his head toward the kitchen — and froze.

Elara was there, moving around with her crutches, preparing breakfast. For a few seconds, he just stared, not processing where he was. Then it hit him — he was in her apartment.

“Oh no…” Ronan muttered, jumping off the couch. He ran to the kitchen and started following her around.
“I’m sorry! I should’ve woken up earlier! You shouldn’t be doing this. I was supposed to take care of you — “

Elara smiled quietly, stirring the pan. She didn’t say anything at first, just watched him panic while pretending to focus on her cooking.
“Ronan,” she finally said softly, “just calm down.”

But he didn’t stop — he was still apologizing, scratching the back of his neck, and glancing nervously at the wall clock. 8:30 a.m.

Elara placed the plates on the table. “Breakfast is ready. Come, sit.”

Feeling guilty, Ronan obeyed and sat across from her. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. He picked up a toast, took a small bite, and sipped the milk she handed him — all in silence.

Elara noticed his downcast face and shook her head slightly.
“You’re here to help me, right?” she said.

Ronan finally looked up and nodded.

“Good,” she continued, folding her arms. “Then you can do the dishes after this… and maybe the laundry too.”

“I’m sorry about breakfast,” Ronan murmured, his voice low.

Elara smiled again, trying not to laugh. “I like my own cooking, so next time, stay out of the kitchen. Do the other things instead.”

Ronan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yeah — yeah, I’ll do everything,” he said quickly, eager to make it up to her.

Elara hid her smile behind her cup of milk. He really does feel bad, she thought.

“Let’s go to the hospital after breakfast to change your dressing,” Ronan said between bites of toast.

“Can’t you do it?” Elara asked.

Ronan froze, the toast halfway to his mouth. “What? You want me to do this?”

“I can’t walk that far,” she replied, reaching for her crutches.

Before she could stand, Ronan was already at her side, gently helping her up and guiding her back to her room. She sat on the edge of her bed, and he was about to leave when she said,
“Hey, get me some clothes from the wardrobe. I’m going to take a bath.”

Ronan hesitated for a moment, then nodded and opened the wardrobe.

“Also, give me my towel,” she added.

He took out a soft towel and handed it to her, then helped her balance as she made her way toward the bathroom.

“I’ll be right outside. If you need anything, just call me,” Ronan said.

“No, go outside the room,” Elara replied, hanging the towel near the rack.

“What if you slip? Your ankle could get worse,” he said seriously.

She sighed. “Okay, fine.”

“And don’t lock the door,” he added quickly. His tone wasn’t teasing — he was genuinely worried.

“Okay,” she said again, then gave him a sharp look. “But don’t you dare peek.”

“I won’t,” Ronan promised, raising his hands in surrender before closing the door behind him.

He stood in her room, unsure what to do for a second. Then, to distract himself, he picked out a pair of loose black trousers and a white oversized T-shirt — something comfortable for her. But when he accidentally caught sight of her lingerie in the wardrobe, he quickly shut it and backed away, taking a few deep breaths.

The room smelled faintly of lavender. Soft morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the pale green walls in gold. There were pictures everywhere — Yellow roses, her childhood photos, one from high school with Alax, and her parents. Ronan walked closer, tracing a finger lightly over one of the Yellow rose photos. She really loves them… he thought.

The sound of running water stopped. The bathroom door opened, and Elara stepped out, wrapped in a white bathrobe. Her wet hair clung to her neck, drops of water glistening on her skin.

Ronan turned at the sound — and froze.

“Get out. I need to change,” she said quickly, blushing slightly.

Ronan blinked, then nodded and left the room without a word. Outside, he exhaled deeply, rubbing his hands through his hair. His heart was beating faster than it should.

This is bad… he thought. I’m getting too close.

The room was quiet except for the low hum of the TV.
The lights were off, and the faint blue glow from the screen flickered across their faces.
Elara was curled up on the sofa, while Ronan sat on the floor, leaning back against it.
They were sharing a bowl of popcorn — his hand brushed hers now and then, but neither said anything about it.

“Elara,” Ronan said suddenly, his eyes still fixed on the TV.

“Hmm?” she replied lazily, not looking away from the screen.

“I’m sorry… for that night.”

Elara froze for a moment, a piece of popcorn halfway to her mouth. She turned to look at him — he was still staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

“Ronan,” she said softly, putting the bowl aside.

He didn’t move, so she placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
“Come here,” she said, patting the spot next to her on the sofa.

He hesitated for a moment, then stood up and sat beside her.
Elara took both of his hands in hers. “Why do you always bring that up? I forgot about it a long time ago.”

“But I didn’t,” Ronan interrupted, his voice quiet but heavy.
“I still feel guilty every time I look at you.”

She frowned slightly. “Why?”

He finally looked at her, his gaze steady but full of regret. “Because… how could I let that happen when you love someone else?”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The TV flickered across their faces like a heartbeat.
Then Elara said quietly, “And what if I don’t love someone else?”

Ronan blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“What if I don’t love Alax?” she asked, her eyes holding his.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Then I’d probably keep hitting on you until you said yes.”

Elara smiled too. “And what if I never say yes?”

Ronan chuckled, leaning back against the sofa. “Then I guess I’ll spend my whole life trying.”

She looked at him for a long moment — the boy who wouldn’t give up — and shook her head, smiling.
“Anyway,” she said, breaking the silence, “it’s been three days. We’ve skipped enough college already. My ankle is fine now.”

“So… we’re going tomorrow?” Ronan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she said with mock seriousness. “And you — go back to your home.”

Ronan’s shoulders slumped. “What? Can’t I stay here a little longer?” he asked, trying to smile, his voice half playful, half pleading.

“No,” Elara said, crossing her arms. “Go pack your bag.”

He pouted like a child. “Can’t I do it tomorrow? After college?”

Elara glanced at him, her expression softening for a second before she said, “You won’t get the chance. Alax will pick me up after college. He’s coming back tomorrow.”

The words hit Ronan like a stone sinking in water. His smile faded instantly, and the light in his eyes dimmed.
For a moment, the room went silent — only the sound of the TV filled the space between them.

“I’m going to sleep,” Elara said quietly, avoiding his eyes. She stood, took her sticks, and disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her.

Ronan sat there, frozen, staring at the floor.
The TV flickered across his face — flashes of blue and white reflecting in his empty eyes.
In just five seconds, the small, warm world he had built over the last three days had fallen apart.

He leaned back against the sofa, whispering to himself, “Tomorrow, huh…”

The screen light flickered one last time, and then the room went dark.