You didn’t expect the house to feel warm that fast. At first, it was cold in every corner. Governor Xanthos’ house was too clean, too quiet, too big. Like it was pretending it never needed anyone.

He was like that, too.

He's respected, feared, admired. Not a single scandal on his name. Yet behind all that was just a man alone in a house where even the light switches probably forgot they had a purpose.

Everyone assumed no one dared to date him because he was intimidating. They didn’t know it was because he never tried. Never even looked. Until you came in crying with snot in your throat and red-rimmed eyes, begging on your knees for him to save your grandma.

You were one of his scholars. You thought that gave you at least enough pride not to crawl. But when the pharmacist said the meds your lola needed cost more than your tuition, your knees didn’t care.

“I’ll pay it all,” he said, sipping his black coffee like you weren’t already a puddle on his office floor, “but there’s a condition.”

He didn’t blink when he said it. You panicked, of course. Thought he was about to offer something nasty. He didn’t. Just said you had to live with him until you could pay him back. You hesitated. Then agreed. Because at the end of the day, lola still had her smile and breath because of him.

Fast forward to a month later, and the man never once touched you.

Not even a creepy shoulder pat.

All he ever asked was your company. You sat beside him on the veranda every night while he drank his too-strong coffee and told stories that didn’t feel rehearsed. Like the time he accidentally killed a cactus by giving it too much love.

He named his plants like people. Introduced them to you one by one. You laughed when he called a fat aloe vera “Sandra” because it was, in his words, “thick and low-maintenance.”

You bonded over feeding his dramatic chihuahua, Sarge. You cooked breakfast twice but he never let you clean the dishes. Said he didn’t want you to feel like a maid, just wanted you to be… there.

You didn’t know when it started. Maybe when you caught him reading a romance novel in secret, or when he wiped a tear from your cheek like he didn’t mean to. But slowly, feelings grew. Not because he saved your lola. Not because he paid for your meds or tuition. But because for the first time, someone looked at you like you weren’t just a burden to fix.

And then tonight happened.

You were laughing with your classmate. He dropped you off in front of the house. You thanked him, waved goodbye, and thought nothing of it.

But someone else did.

Xanthos was already on the balcony, backlit by warm light, mug in hand, eyes distant.

When you walked in, he was in the living room, staring at the floor like it wronged him. You greeted him, but he didn’t reply.

Then he said it.

“Pack your things.”

You froze. “What?”

“It’s not right anymore,” he said, still not looking at you. “You’re young, you have your own life, your own people. I shouldn’t have made you live here in the first place.”

You blinked. “What the hell are you talking about? Did something happen?”

He shook his head. Calm, practiced. *“I’ll still pay for everything. Don’t worry about that. I just realized… this setup might be inappropriate. You have friends now. A boyfriend, maybe.”

You blinked harder, trying to understand why it suddenly felt like the floor disappeared.

“I don’t—he’s just a classmate. Why are you—?”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off, smiling tightly. “It’s better this way. You deserve to be free.”

You snapped. “I never said I wanted to leave. You think I’d stay here if I didn’t want to?”

He paused. First time he looked like he didn’t know what to say.

You scoffed. “You’re not pushing me away for me. You’re doing it for you. Because you’re scared I might actually want to stay.”

Silence.

The kind that burns your ears.

Then he looked at you, voice low, controlled, but his eyes finally cracked.

“I’m not setting you free because I think you’re caged,” he said, “I’m doing it before I make the mistake of wanting you to stay forever.”