That morning, I heard sounds.
Not loud ones. The quiet, disturbing kind that echoes too much when a house is supposed to be still.
It all felt like a dream. But then, I woke up to soft knocks, hurried footsteps, the zip of a bag, someone rushing down the stairs, a door closing too fast. It was barely three in the morning. What could be going on?
At first,I didn't think much of it. I just lay there staring at the ceiling, pretending silence wasn't hinting at something.
Then I remembered, Aurora was traveling today and it was on such short notice .
She must've been packing last-minute things she forgot she needed. And she was most likely dragging Mason out of bed, because that boy sleeps as if somebody hired him to do it professionally. And she was definitely rushing to beat the airport traffic.
A few minutes later, I heard a car door slam, then another. The engine started and they drove off.
Silence swallowed the house after that. And just like that the house went dead.
A strange silence. Not peaceful, not calm. Just empty, this emptiness felt heavy. The kind that settles in your chest for no logical reason.
I didn't know it was the kind of silence that warns you your life is about to change, nor did I know that it was the kind of calm that came before a storm. If I had known, maybe I would have stayed in school a little longer, maybe I would have prayed, maybe I would have breathed differently.
But how would I have known, it's not like I could see the future.
After school, I kept checking my phone, expecting a single text from Mason.
Nothing? Not even a dry "yo" or those stupid memes he always sends me at the wrong time. Not even a picture of his forehead— that boy never sends normal snaps.
I told myself that it was nothing, maybe he wasn't home yet, school was just too stressful so he couldn't text back. A part of me still thought he was upset, it was unlike him. Maybe he didn't like the way I left him hanging after the last kiss. The saddest fear kept creeping into me, he wasn't worried about me, or he probably didn't care enough to text back.
Something felt off enough that my legs just walked me towards their house on autopilot.
I just wanted to see him, to feel normal again. At least to feel seen and loved by someone. But deep down, I knew exactly who I wanted to see.
When I got there, the compound was quiet. The whole place felt hollow. There was no sound from TV, no footsteps, no voice calling someone's name. Nothing, just that same strange stillness from in the morning, wrapping around everything.
I knocked.
No reply.
I knocked again, softer this time. I felt like if I raised my voice I would break something delicate, the silence.
Still nothing.
So I pushed the door. It opened a little too easily, like it had been waiting for me. I guess it wasn't locked, so I stepped inside slowly.
The house felt different that day. Like it had lost its warmth and presence, almost like the only thing left were the walls.
I walked further in, my school bag still hanging off one shoulder. Everything felt heavier than it should. Every sound I made echoed back to me— my shoes on the floor, my breath, even my heartbeat.
"Hello?" I called, though my voice sounded small.
Mason! I yelled, I always yelled his name.
No answer.
But then I turned towards the kitchen area, and that's when I saw him.
Ethan.
Standing near the counter, sleeves rolled up, hair a little messy, eyes slightly tired but sharp. The moment his eyes locked on mine, something changed in the room. Not dramatically, just subtly, more like air shifting.
He looked like he wasn't expecting anyone, yet somehow he also looked like he knew I'd walk in. I can't explain that part, it just felt like that.
Everything slowed down after that. One of those scenes where your brain feels too aware. He asked me what I was doing there and I said something awkward — I don't even remember what. Something about checking on Mason or dropping by or whatever lie my mouth decided to throw out.
Mason's not home, he started. Didn't he tell you, he followed Aurora to Milan this morning.
He didn't tell me, he probably forgot to. I said. I'll just leave since he's not home.
He stepped closer. And I swear my body didn't just react, it surrendered. My stomach dipped, my breath stuttered and my heart did a very disrespectful jump.
His fingers touched my cheek. Slightly, with just a finger, felt like a soft brush. Then he tucked my hair behind my ears and I didn't flinch.
The next second, he kissed me. I guess I gave him all the validation he needed.
We were just standing there, and like the next thing— boom, his lips were on mine. There was no question, no hesitation. Just action, and I loved it. I felt heat move around my body. At first, the kiss was soft and slow, then deeper and sharper. It was the kind of kiss that felt like it was rewriting something inside of you.
Hands.
Breath.
Soft moans.
Heat pulling heat.
Shadows moving where they shouldn't.
The stairs— clothes being pulled off.
Then the bed— moans got louder and I'm dripping wet.
Sheets— tangled in his sheets and fucked anywhere we liked.
It was the kind of night that unfolded luke the son we both chose. And the night that should never have happened… happened.
Later that evening, I walked home numb. No feelings basically. I wasn't sad, I wasn't happy nor was I proud of what I had just done. I was just burning and it wasn't with rage. As if something inside me had woken up and didn't know how to go back to sleep.
I lay down that night with my heart beating too fast. Now I get the feeling, it was guilt. Guilt chewing through my insides slowly, quietly, patiently — like it had all the time in the world.
When I closed my eyes, the memories replayed too smoothly, too vividly.
Looking back now, I realise something.
Everything before this moment…
every day, every mistake, every innocent thought…
…it was all just a prelude.
If I had known this was the day my real life would start,
I would've stayed home.
I would've kept away.
I wouldn't have accepted the offer Aurora Hale gave me in the first place.
But life doesn't warn you.
It just happens.
And mine started on the day I walked into that house alone.