I watched Theo’s precise motions. I wanted to say something light, something normal.How’s the weather? Got a rehearsal today?
Anything but the truth pulsing between us.
Theo handed me a mug without meeting my gaze. “Sugar’s on the counter.”
“Thanks.” I wrapped both hands around it, praying for the heat to ground me. “You working today?” So what if it was Sunday? Theo probably worked every day. He was that kinda guy.
“In a bit.” A pause. “What do you have planned for today?”
“I thought I’d take my sketchpad down to the river. Maybe my watercolours too.” I gave a weak smile. “Figure I should pretend to be productive.”
Theo nodded. “Good plan.”
The silence that followed was unbearable. Every clink of a spoon felt amplified. I could feel Theo across the room, steady, tense, perfectly composed, and it made my own heartbeat louder.
Finally, I couldn’t bear it a second longer.
“Are you all right?” I blurted.
Theo’s hand paused mid-stir. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You seem…” I hesitated, fumbling for another word that wasn’tdistant. “…quiet.”
Theo gave a short laugh, not unkind but brittle around the edges. “I’m always quiet.”
“Yeah, but this isOlympic-level quiet,” I said. “Like, ‘someone swore in church’ quiet.”
That earned me a flicker of a smile, but it didn’t last. Theo set his mug down carefully. “I just didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”
My chest tightened.
Can he tell? Does he know?
The thought made my pulse jump and my stomach twist.
Ofcoursehe knows. There’s a bottle of lube sitting on the floor. And Theo doesn’t miss a thing.
Theo leaned back against the counter, his arms folded. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” he said, his tone professional, neutral. “I want that to be clear.”
It felt like a boundary disguised as kindness.
I swallowed. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
We both sipped our coffee. The sound of the city waking up drifted faintly through the window: traffic, distant horns, footsteps on wet pavement. Ordinary noises, trying to make the room ordinary again.
Which was never going to work.
Theo broke the silence first. “Did you sketch until late?”
I nodded. “I couldn’t switch my brain off.”
Theo’s eyes lifted for half a second, and I caught the faintest trace of colour in his face before he looked away again.
Something inside me twisted, but whether it was from embarrassment, guilt, or maybe even a flash of recognition, I couldn’t tell. I only knew the space between us felt raw. Ireverted to my instinctual behaviour the way I always did when my emotions threatened to spill. I went with humour.
“You know, your sofa bed’s comfortable but it squeaks like an old movie prop.” My heartbeat raced. “If you hear weird noises in the middle of the night, that’s probably it.”
Theo froze for the smallest fraction of a second. Then, slowly, he looked up. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Probably?”