Six months in, and this is your first time in his house. Felix sits beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, but not quite touching. He smells faintly of vanilla and clean linen, similar to his room which returns the vanilla.

“So… uh, what do you think?” he asks, gesturing vaguely to the room, though his gaze consciously avoids yours while fiddling with a silver ring on his finger. “It’s nice,” you reply softly, voice dipping like you’re afraid to shatter the fragile intimacy lingering between you. “It’s so… you.”

He finally looks at you, his freckles catching the light like constellations. “You really think so?” There’s a tiny smile tugging at his lips, shy but hopeful.