Eline woke later than usual, the dim light in the room making it hard to tell how much time had passed. He stayed still for a few moments, his mind slow and unfocused, then gradually sat up. The memory of the farm came back to him—not in detail, just the feeling of it, and the strawberries. A faint smile appeared on his face as he remembered them. He had bought two large boxes before coming here.
He ran a hand through his hair and got out of bed. For a moment, he thought about asking a maid to bring them, but the thought didn't last. There was no real reason to. He could just go and get them himself.
The hallway was quiet as always, nothing out of place. He walked without thinking much, heading straight to the kitchen. When he opened the refrigerator, he saw them immediately—two large boxes, filled with strawberries, fresh and bright.
He picked one up and took a bite. The taste spread quickly, sweet and sharp, and for a moment he just stood there, chewing slowly. Then he took another bite, and then another. Without really noticing, he picked up more, eating them one after another. At some point, his mouth was full, his cheeks slightly puffed as he tried to chew everything at once, almost like a squirrel stuffing food too quickly.
He swallowed after a moment, letting out a small breath. "You can actually get high on strawberries," he muttered to himself.
He reached for one of the boxes and lifted it, deciding he'd just take it back to his room and eat the rest there. Closing the fridge, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.
The hallway was the same as before—silent, controlled—but as he stepped into it, something felt slightly off. He adjusted his hold on the box and continued walking toward his room, unaware of what exactly had changed, only that it had.
Eline walked down the hallway with the box in his hands, his steps unhurried. As he turned the corner, he saw Carlson ahead. For a brief second, their eyes met. Eline instinctively slowed, a thought crossing his mind that maybe he should stop, say something—but what would he even say? They weren't acquaintances, let alone anything close to that. There was nothing natural about greeting him. It would only feel forced. So he kept walking, passing by without a word.
Carlson, on the other hand, had already decided he would not pay attention to him anymore. It was done. The brief awareness of each other's presence flickered in both their minds, then disappeared just as quickly, both choosing to ignore it.
Eline continued toward his room, but just before reaching it, a cool breeze brushed against his face from the open side of the corridor. He paused slightly. The air felt different—lighter than inside. For a moment, he reconsidered and turned toward the garden instead. It would be better to sit there and eat.
The garden was dim, lit only in certain places. There was only one bench with a lamp above it; the rest were left in shadow. Eline had noticed it before but never questioned it. He walked toward that bench out of habit, but as he got closer, he saw a shadow already there. Then the figure became clear.
Darian.
He was sitting under the lamp, a book in his hands.
Eline stopped. He didn't want to deal with that right now. He was in a good mood, and he didn't want to ruin it. Turning slightly, he decided to go back. But as he stepped away and looked toward the hallway again, he saw Carlson still there, speaking on the phone. For a moment, Eline hesitated. If he went back now, it might seem deliberate—like he was avoiding him again. It would feel… awkward.
So instead, he chose one of the darker benches further away. Quiet, unnoticed. He could sit there, finish his strawberries, and then return to his room.
He started walking in that direction.
"Who?"
The voice came from behind him.
Eline paused and turned back. Darian was looking at him now, his attention no longer on the book.
Eline gave a small, awkward laugh. "I was just here to get some fresh air."
Darian's gaze shifted to the box in his hands. "What is in your hand?"
"Strawberries," Eline said. "I just wanted to eat them outside."
He began to move again, intending to continue toward the darker side of the garden.
"Sit here," Darian said.
Eline stopped again, glancing back. "No, I'm fine," he replied, another small, awkward laugh slipping out.
Darian didn't move, but his voice came again, calm and direct. "Do you want to eat insects with them? It's dark. You won't be able to see what you're eating."
Eline hesitated.
"It would be better if you sit here," Darian added, slightly shifting to one side of the bench. "I won't mind."
Eline looked at the darker benches for a moment, then back at the one under the lamp. It wasn't a bad point. And refusing again would only make things stranger.
So he walked back and sat down on the other side of the bench, keeping a small distance between them, the box of strawberries still in his hands.