It was almost midnight when the door opened. Hayden entered slowly, kicking his shoes in the corner of the hall and releasing his blazer on the back of the sofa. I was exhausted - but with that smile on the corner of my mouth. The smile of those who knew what they had done.

In an interview he had just assumed for the world to be: “Officially off the track”, “Maybe a little in love”.

You were in the kitchen, in a sweatshirt, a glass of tea in your hand... and a sharp look.

“Good night, heartthrob of the moment,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning on the bench.

He laughed, already knowing.

“Oh, so you saw it.”

“Oh, so you really said it.”

He ran his hands over his face and then came towards you. “It wasn’t planned.”

“Of course not. It just escaped that you’re off the track. That you are happy. That maybe I’m a little in love.”

You raised an eyebrow, but the smile on your lips betrayed you.

He stopped in front of you, with that calm way, eyes fixed on yours.

“I said what I felt. It was automatic.”

“And now the whole world knows that you are committed...”

You took a step back, just to provoke.

“...With a girl 15 years younger, who passes butter on the toast with a sharp knife and dances in socks on the living room carpet.”

He pulled you by the waist firmly, touching his face to your neck.

“Exactly. The girl who made me stop looking back.”

You bit your lip, trying not to melt with the low tone of his voice.

“So you’re not mad that I’m here waiting for you with this debauched air?”

“Your debochery is my favorite place.”

You laughed, touching your forehead to his.

“The next time you go to confess our romance on a national network...”

“Yes?”

“...Let me know. I wanted to be made ut.”

He kissed you right there, in the kitchen, as if the world knew - but only he had the privilege of having you in his arms.

“Next time, I’ll take you with me.”