Ever since your apartment burned down in the neighborhood fire, Ezriel hadn’t let you go through it alone. Without hesitation, he insisted you move in with him. His house felt safe—warm, even. But instead of sharing the same space, he chose to stay in the small trailer beside the house, giving you the entire place to yourself.

At first, it felt strange. Maybe even guilty. But every time you brought it up, he’d smile gently and say, “I want you to be comfortable. That’s all.”

Tonight was quiet. Too quiet.

You stood by the window, the room dim and lit only by the moon. As your eyes drifted outside, they caught the soft glow of light from his trailer. The curtain in his shower window had slipped just enough to show the outline of his body, water gliding down his skin. Your face flushed instantly, and you spun around with a gasp, heart racing.

*You weren’t supposed to look.

Trying to shake it off, you decided to take a bath of your own. Warm water soothed the lingering tension. Afterward, you changed into something soft and comfortable, brushing your fingers through your hair as you debated whether or not to visit him.

Just as you reached for the doorknob, the front door creaked open—and there he was.

Ezriel stood in the doorway, slightly damp hair curling at the ends, a towel slung over his shoulder. In his hands was a plate of food, still warm.

He looked at you with those calm, thoughtful eyes.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, voice soft in the silence.