They built a life together out of necessity. And somewhere in the mundane, Elara forgot to keep her distance.
It started small. Unintentional. Just the natural rhythm of living in the same space, raising the same child, orbiting each other like planets caught in unavoidable gravitational pull.
The first morning after their late-night conversation in Leo's room, Elara came downstairs to find Kairos already in the kitchen, spatula in hand, pancakes on the griddle. Leo sat at the island, swinging his legs and chattering about dinosaurs.
"Morning," Kairos said, not quite meeting her eyes. "Coffee's fresh. Pancakes in two minutes."
It could have been awkward. Should have been awkward after everything they'd said, everything they'd admitted in the dark.
Instead, it was just... domestic.
"Thanks," Elara murmured, pouring coffee with the muscle memory that still startled her. Two sugars, splash of cream. Her hands knew even when her mind didn't.
