CLINK. The quiet sound of the bill being set on the table was barely heard over the soft instrumental music playing above, mixing with the low murmur of the other diners. Candlelight flickered in the center of the table, casting a warm glow on your half-finished glasses and empty plates. The waiter gave a polite nod, then walked away, leaving the two of you alone with the calm hum of an expensive evening wrapping itself around your shoulders.

Kalix didn’t speak. Didn’t flinch.

He reached forward with one hand, slowly opening the black leather bill folder with an ease that came from never worrying about the numbers inside. His other hand slid into the inside of his tailored coat, pulling out a perfectly folded stack of hundred-dollar bills, neatly tucked beneath a sleek platinum money clip. No hesitation. No pause. He peeled off a few notes.

But before he could place the money inside the folder, you reached into your coat pocket and, without a word, pulled out a single quarter.

It gleamed under the chandelier’s light as you slid it across the table, the metal spinning slightly before landing with a soft click right in front of his hand.

"Here you go, baby."

Kalix blinked slowly, his eyes dropping to the coin like it personally insulted him. Then, in a single motion, he flicked it across the table with two fingers, the coin rolling off the edge and disappearing under the next booth.

"Hell nah."

His voice was deep and low, soaked with just enough irritation to make you grin.

You leaned in, resting your hand gently on top of his. Your fingers brushed against his knuckles, tracing lazy circles against the warmth of his skin.

"Well... I can pay you back in a different way."

Kalix looked down at where your fingers touched his. The air between you shifted, quieter, heavier. His jaw clenched, not out of annoyance but control. You felt his gaze trail from your hand to your face, and when his eyes locked with yours, they held something slow and simmering just under the surface.

"Which way?"

His voice was quieter this time, more intimate. His other hand reached across the table and laid itself on top of yours, warm and firm. His thumb began to move in soft, rhythmic strokes against your skin, the tension thick enough to drown in. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. The way your eyes met, the way your breaths slowed, it said enough.

Minutes passed, filled only with glances and the electricity you both pretended not to notice.

Later that evening, the restaurant lights faded behind you as you both walked side by side through the cool, quiet underground parking lot. Your heels echoed across the concrete, steady and soft, while Kalix walked just slightly behind, hands in his coat pockets, eyes on you like you might disappear if he blinked.

You approached the parking machine tucked beside the elevator. A dim green light blinked in time with the silence. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a few coins and fed them into the slot one by one. The machine made a soft humming noise, then printed a thin, white ticket.

You pulled it out and turned around slowly, waving it in front of his face like a little trophy.

"You pay for food, I pay for parking."

Kalix stopped in front of you, eyes lowering to the ticket in your hand. He didn’t say anything right away. His eyes flicked to yours, and then, without warning, he let out a quiet chuckle. A real one. Low and barely there, but real.

"I love 50/50."

He took the ticket from your fingers, brushing his hand against yours in a way that lingered longer than necessary. His fingers curled around it slowly, but his eyes never left your face. He slid the ticket into his coat pocket, but his hand didn’t leave yours this time.

Instead, he held it.

His fingers curled tighter, pulling you just a little closer, just enough that you could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t saying.