The tension between Kya and me had been thick all day. She barely looked at me, her arms crossed whenever I tried to talk to her. I hated seeing her like this, especially knowing I was the reason she was upset. I wasn’t even sure if flowers would fix it, but I had to try.

I showed up at her place with a bouquet of her favorite blooms—sunflowers and roses. When she opened the door, her expression was still guarded, her brows furrowed like she was ready to tell me off again. But when I held out the flowers, her lips twitched, fighting against a smile.

“You’re such an idiot sometimes,” she said, shaking her head, but she took the flowers anyway.

“I know,” I said, stepping closer. “I’m sorry, Kya. I hate when you’re mad at me.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at the bouquet, and then back at me. She let out a small laugh, setting the flowers on the table before wrapping her arms around my neck. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she teased, her voice lighter now.

Before I could say anything else, her lips were on mine, the warmth of her kiss melting away all the frustration from earlier. It was the kind of kiss that made everything else disappear, and I couldn’t help but smile against her lips, grateful that I had her.