Sleep didn't come easily that night. Nara lay in bed, eyes fixed on the faint shimmer of city light sneaking through her curtains. Her body was still, but her mind refused to rest. Every detail of the evening kept replaying, the warmth in Keigh's laugh, the way his gaze lingered when she spoke, the sincerity in his voice when he said you.
It had been so long since anyone had looked at her that way, as if she were something to be understood, not analyzed or used. It wasn't just attraction. It was… gentleness. The kind she'd forgotten could exist between two people who weren't trying to prove anything.
She turned on her side, clutching her pillow.
Maybe it was the wine, she told herself. Or the lighting. Or maybe she just needed to feel seen.
But even that excuse felt hollow because beneath all her attempts to rationalize it, she could still feel the electricity that had hummed quietly between them, not loud or demanding, but steady, patient. The kind that could wait.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message.
She hesitated before reaching for it.
> Keigh: "Made it home safe. I can't stop thinking about the way you said the word complicated. It sounded like both a warning and a promise."
Nara stared at the message, her chest tightening.
She typed a reply, erased it. Typed again. Erased.
What could she possibly say? That she hadn't stopped thinking about him either? That his words had carved themselves somewhere deep, where logic couldn't reach?
She set the phone down and pressed a hand against her heart, feeling it beat faster than it should.
Outside, the night hummed quietly, the low rhythm of passing cars, the whisper of wind through the trees. Everything was still. Everything except her.
---
Across town, Keigh sat in his study, sleeves rolled up, eyes fixed on his phone. He hadn't expected her to reply right away. But he also knew she'd read it, maybe more than once.
He smiled faintly to himself. He could still see her there, candlelight painting her face, eyes bright with that mix of strength and vulnerability that drew him in more than he wanted to admit.
He leaned back, exhaling slowly.
He wasn't naïve, he knew the timing was dangerous. The world around them, the expectations, his parents' quiet insistence on a match that made "sense."
But for the first time in a long while, he didn't care about sense.
He cared about her.
---
Back in her room, Nara finally unlocked her phone again.
She typed quickly this time.
> Nara: "Complicated things usually are the ones that end up meaning something."
She stared at the words before pressing send. Then she tucked the phone under her pillow and closed her eyes, her lips curving into the faintest smile, one she didn't even realize she had.
Sleep still didn't come easily.
But when it did, it was filled with him.