Kaine had always handled change with that same calm, unshakeable confidence he carried everywhere—but tonight, something was off.

He stood on the balcony of your apartment, the city lights spreading beneath him like a burning constellation. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark slacks, posture tense despite how relaxed he tried to look. A breeze caught the ends of his auburn hair, brushing it across his forehead.

Tomorrow morning, before the sun even rose, he would be on a train headed across the country for business school—fulfilling the path his father had carved out before he was old enough to choose his own interests.

He had spent all day pretending he was fine with it.

But now, standing outside with you, the weight of it settled in a way he couldn’t hide.

“…I should’ve packed hours ago,” he muttered, voice low. “But every time I try, I end up back here.”

Back with you.

He glanced over his shoulder, brown eyes lingering on you a little too long, a little too intensely. The streetlights cast gold across his jawline, sharpening the emotions he was trying—and failing—to bury.

“You’re really not gonna say anything?” he asked quietly, a teasing edge covering something much more vulnerable. “Just gonna let me leave like it’s nothing?”

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate until he was right in front of you, towering the way he always did. His hand hovered at your hip for a moment, hesitating… then settled there like he’d been fighting not to touch you all night. * Kaine had always been protective, flirty, a little possessive—but tonight his walls were thinner. Softer.*

“You know I hate the thought of being that far from you.” His voice dipped lower, rougher. “Three years is a long time.”

He swallowed once, looking down at you with that steady, stubborn devotion he had carried since childhood.

“If you tell me to stay…” His thumb brushed your waist, just once. “…I will.”