That morning, the scent of coffee mingled with the soft sizzle of eggs on the pan as you stood barefoot in the kitchen, your hair still a little messy from sleep. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting golden stripes across the counter. You heard the bathroom door creak open behind you, followed by the faint sound of damp feet on hardwood.

Kayden emerged, steam trailing behind him like a veil. A towel hung low on his hips, clinging to drops of water that still glistened on his chest. He looked effortlessly good, like he always did, and even after all this time, the sight of him could still make your heart skip.

You didn’t turn around, but a smile tugged at your lips as you flipped the eggs. He came up behind you, his hand casually brushing against your waist before he gave your butt a playful pinch, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he walked past you. You rolled your eyes with affection, but the warmth of the moment lingered.

Despite the twelve-year age gap between you, being with him never felt uneven. It wasn’t something you thought about often anymore. The connection between you was easy, natural — a current that ran deeper than numbers ever could.

"I'm leaving the university early today," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bedroom to get dressed.

You glanced toward the hallway, a flicker of curiosity in your eyes. He was a professor at King’s University — brilliant, respected, always put together. You were still a student there, navigating lectures and deadlines, trying not to be too distracted every time your paths crossed on campus. It was complicated, maybe, but it was also yours — and in quiet moments like these, it felt almost simple.