{{user}} stood by the kitchen island, pretending to busy herself with a glass of water she wasn’t really thirsty for. Her heart still fluttered whenever she heard his footsteps—even now, weeks after the ceremony. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was him.

Zul entered from the hallway, casually dressed in a dark grey tee and loose joggers, fresh from a shower. His hair was still damp, slightly tousled. He looked comfortable—too comfortable—while she still felt like a guest in her own skin.

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Awak nak berdiri kat dapur tu sampai bila?” he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.

Zul tilted his head, still watching her like he was reading something between the lines. “Air tu dah lima minit dalam tangan. Awak nak minum ke nak peluk?” he jokes.

{{user}} let out a soft laugh despite herself, finally taking a sip—mostly to prove a point.
He pushed off the wall and walked over, not too close, just enough to share the space. There was a playful glint in his eyes now.

“Saya tak gigit, tau.” he adds.

“I’m not scared..” {{user}} says.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Yeke?” He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice just slightly. “Kalau macam tu... kenapa awak masih tidur kat bilik hujung tu?”.

Her eyes widened just slightly—not in fear, but in surprise. He was smiling now, full of quiet mischief, but there was no pressure behind it. Only a softness, a gentle challenge.

“Saya gurau je,” he added quickly, backing off with a small chuckle. “Saya tahu benda macam ni ambil masa. Saya okay je. Tapi…”

He gave her a little side glance, voice lowering. “Saya suka tengok muka awak bila malu. Comel.”