Keigh woke to a silence he wasn't used to.
Not the sterile, empty quiet of his apartment on most mornings, but a softer kind, one that carried the faint hum of the city outside and the subtle awareness that he wasn't alone anymore.
He stayed still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening. There was movement in the kitchen, soft footsteps, the faint clink of something being set on the counter. Nara.
A warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with the morning light filtering through the curtains. He rarely worked from home, almost never, actually, but today, the thought of leaving her alone in his space felt wrong and unnecessary. Like walking away from something fragile and rare.
He'd already cleared his schedule.
When he finally stepped into the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hair still damp from the shower, Nara was standing by the counter in one of his oversized shirts. It swallowed her frame, the hem brushing mid-thigh. Her hair was loosely tied, strands falling around her face as she focused on slicing fruit.
She looked domestic. The word startled him.
She looked like she belonged there.
She glanced up and froze slightly when she noticed him watching.
"You're not dressed," she said, pointing vaguely at his chest, as if that were the problem and not the way his presence suddenly made her breath hitch.
"I am," he replied calmly. "Just not in a suit."
She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved. "You're working today, right?"
"No."
That made her pause. "No?"
"I decided not to."
"That's… new."
He leaned against the counter across from her, studying her openly. "So are a lot of things lately."
Her cheeks warmed under his gaze. "I was going to make breakfast. Proper breakfast. Since you always eat like you're being timed."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "I'll try to behave."
They cooked together, if you could call it that. Nara did most of the actual work, humming softly as she moved around the kitchen. Keigh stayed close, handing her utensils, stealing pieces of fruit when he thought she wasn't looking.She caught him every time.
Breakfast turned into laughter, coffee turned into lingering touches. His hand brushing hers when they reached for the same mug, her shoulder grazing his chest as she leaned past him. None of it was intentional. All of it felt dangerous.
By mid-morning, Keigh had settled at the dining table with his laptop open, reviewing documents while Nara sat across from him with her own work. She kept glancing up at him, like she wanted to say something and didn't quite know how.
"What?" he asked eventually, eyes still on the screen.
"You're… different today."
That got his attention. He looked up. "Different how?"
"Softer," she said, then winced. "Not in a bad way. Just...less intimidating."
He considered that. "You don't find me intimidating."
She smiled faintly. "I do. Just not right now."
Lunch became an unplanned joint effort. She stood on a chair to reach a high cabinet, and his hands instinctively went to her waist, not to steady her, exactly, but close enough that both of them froze when she realized. For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then she stepped down, her back brushing his chest as she turned, and something in the air shifted. They didn't talk about it.
By afternoon, the tension had become a living thing, quiet, patient, waiting. They ended up on the couch, legs tucked under them, a movie playing neither of them was really watching. Nara leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. Keigh's arm draped around her without thought and it felt natural, too natural.
She looked up at him when the credits rolled, eyes searching his face like she was asking a question she hadn't voiced yet. He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss started slow, hesitant, almost careful. As he was about to deepen it his phone rang, the sound was jarring.
He groaned softly and reached for it. One glance at the screen told him exactly who it was. He answered.
"Keigh," his mother's voice came through immediately, warm but sharp with concern. "Why are you home?"
He blinked. "Good evening to you too."
"You skipped work," she continued. "You never skip work. Your assistant said you cancelled all meetings. Are you sick?"
"No."
"Then why?"
He glanced at Nara, who was pretending very hard to be invested in the movie.
"I needed a day."
Silence.
"That's not like you," his mother said carefully. "And you haven't been home since the anniversary. You've been… distant."
"I've been busy."
"With what?" she asked, then added pointedly, "Or with who?"
He exhaled slowly.
"There's a rumour," she continued. "That you were seen with a woman. That she might be the same one people whispered about at the gala."
His jaw tightened. "People whisper about everything."
"I'm not against you having someone," she said gently. "I just want to know who she is. And whether she's safe for you."
"For me?" he echoed.
"You're a Dynamite," she replied. "People come close for reasons, wealth, influence, power."
He didn't answer immediately.
"And the Alarics," she added. "Are you behind what's happening to them? Keigh they've been our family friends for over decades"
A pause.
"I'm not discussing that over the phone."
Another silence, this one heavier.
"I worry about you," she said finally. "And I worry about whoever she is, if she's been pulled into your world."
Keigh's gaze softened as it drifted back to Nara. "So do I," he said quietly.
After he hung up, he sat there for a moment, phone still in hand.
Nara turned to him. "That sounded… intense."
"She worries too much," he said.
She smiled faintly. "Mothers do."
The rest of the night passed in softer moments, less talking, more closeness.
Later, when the apartment was dark and quiet, he stood outside her door again. He checked the security feeds. The locks. The alarms, then he hesitated.
This time, when he slipped inside, she was already still, or pretending to be. He lay beside her, careful, restrained, one arm settling around her as if it had always belonged there. She relaxed into him almost immediately, her back fitting perfectly against his chest. The simplicity of it nearly undid him.
They slept like that until dawn, and when he slipped away before sunrise, he knew he was already in too deep.
He was drifting toward sleep later that night when he felt her move. Keigh stayed perfectly still, eyes closed, breath steady.
Her fingers brushed his face tentative, curious, tracing the bridge of his nose, lingering at the curve of his cheek. His heart thundered so loudly he was sure she could hear it.
Her touch stopped just above his lips. He held his breath. She leaned closer and he felt the warmth of her breath, the hesitation. And then softly, fleetingly, her lips brushed against his. It was barely a kiss but it shattered him.
She pulled away almost immediately, whispering to herself, "I'm losing my mind…"
He didn't move until her breathing evened out again. When he finally slipped away before dawn, that kiss replayed over and over in his mind. She had chosen him and that was the moment Keigh Dynamite decided he was done being careful with his heart.
He would love her openly, boldly, no matter the cost.