Bled, Slovenia — 2:17 PM
The car doors shut one after another. Eira slid into the back seat beside Ares, still trying to process the fact that she was actually sitting next to him.
Not on a screen. Not through a phone speaker. Not in some imaginary version of a future she had built at two in the morning.
Here.
Real.
Close enough that the sleeve of his denim jacket brushed against hers. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Jun started the engine. The car rolled away from the airport. Eira looked out the window, pretending the scenery was suddenly fascinating.
Ares looked at her. Then at their hands. Then back at her. His fingers shifted slightly against the seat. She noticed. Of course she noticed. Her heart immediately began behaving like it had never attended a basic lesson in emotional regulation.
Ares cleared his throat.
"So…"
Eira glanced at him.
"So?"
He looked almost shy. It was ridiculous. This was Ares. The man who could walk onto a stadium stage in front of eighty thousand people without blinking. And yet, apparently, holding one girl's hand was enough to make him forget how hands worked.
"Remember what I told you?" he asked.
"What?"
"About meeting you."
She smiled.
"You said a lot of things."
"I know. I'm poetic. It's a burden."
She laughed quietly. He smiled. Then, after a moment, he turned his palm upward between them. An invitation. Eira stared at his hand. Then at him.
"Are you asking?"
"Yes."
"With your hand?"
"Apparently."
She giggled.
"Very sophisticated."
"I panicked."
"You?"
"Terribly."
Her smile softened. She slowly placed her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers. And for a second, neither moved. Their hands simply rested together. Warm. Real.
Ares looked down. Then back at her. His expression changed. Something quiet entered his eyes. He gently intertwined their fingers. And whispered,
"Your hand really does mix with mine."
Eira's cheeks immediately turned pink.
"What?"
He smiled, almost embarrassed by how happy he looked.
"Just like I thought."
She stared at their intertwined fingers.
"You remembered that?"
"I remember everything you say."
Her heart gave a little painful flutter.
"That's dangerous."
"What is?"
"You remembering things like that."
"Why?"
"Because now I'll have to be careful."
Ares leaned slightly closer.
"Don't."
She looked at him.
"Don't what?"
"Don't be careful with me."
Her smile became smaller.
Softer.
"I don't think I know how."
"Good."
She laughed under her breath. He squeezed her hand once. Then twice. Eira looked down.
"Are you doing Morse code?"
"Maybe."
"What are you saying?"
"I like you."
She giggled.
"That's not Morse code."
"I know."
She bumped her shoulder lightly against his.
"You're ridiculous."
"And you're holding my hand."
"Unfortunately."
"Tragic."
She tried to pull her hand away. He tightened his fingers around hers—not enough to stop her, just enough to make her laugh.
"Hey!"
"Too late."
"You're clingy."
"I've waited three months for this."
That silenced her. She looked at him. He looked back. Then she smiled.
"Okay."
She leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. Ares froze for half a second. Then relaxed. His cheek rested gently against the top of her head. Neither noticed Jun watching them through the rearview mirror. Actually, He noticed everything. The intertwined hands. The ridiculous smiles. The way Ares kept glancing at Eira as if checking she was still real. Jun's expression remained unreadable. But his eyes lingered in the mirror. He had expected something different. A fan dazzled by celebrity. Someone impressed by the money. Someone eager to be photographed beside him. Instead, Eira was sitting there in a simple brown coat, holding Ares's hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. And Ares, Ares looked happier than Jun had seen him in years. Jun looked back at the road. His jaw tightened. He still wasn't convinced. Not yet.
Eira's Home — 2:48 PM
When the car stopped, Eira suddenly became nervous again.
"This is it."
Ares looked out the window. A small, charming neighborhood. Quiet streets. Old buildings. Flower boxes. Nothing extravagant. Nothing that looked like the world he lived in.
Eira turned toward him.
"Don't expect anything fancy."
"I don't."
"My apartment is tiny."
"I like tiny."
"It's a little messy."
"I've seen your laundry pile on video."
She gasped.
"You promised never to mention that."
"I lied."
She slapped his arm lightly.
He laughed.
Jun stepped out of the car.
Eira grabbed her bag.
"Come on."
Ares followed. She led them through the small entrance and unlocked her door. When it opened, warmth greeted them. Her home was exactly like her. Small, Cozy, a little imperfect but full of life.There were books stacked beside the couch. Tiny plants on the windowsill. Photographs tucked into corners. A knitted blanket draped over an old armchair, candles, little handwritten notes, a collection of postcards pinned to the wall. Nothing expensive, everything personal. Ares stepped inside slowly. His eyes moved everywhere.
"Wow."
Eira smiled nervously.
"It's not much."
He turned toward her.
"It feels like you."
She blinked.
"What does that mean?"
"Warm."
He looked around again.
"Safe."
Then he smiled.
"And slightly chaotic."
She laughed.
"Okay, that's definitely me."
Jun entered behind them. His eyes swept over the apartment. The furniture was modest. The space was small. The decorations were inexpensive. His expression shifted. He glanced at Ares. Then at Eira. And something cold entered his voice.
"So this is where you live?"
Eira nodded.
"Yeah."
Jun gave a small hum.
Ares noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Jun."
Jun shrugged.
"I'm just saying… it's a very simple place."
Eira's smile faded slightly. Ares's expression hardened.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Jun looked at him.
"Nothing. I'm just trying to understand."
"Understand what?"
Jun's gaze moved toward Eira.
"You've got everything in the world available to you, Ares. And suddenly you're here."
Eira looked down.
Ares didn't.
"Yeah."
His voice was calm.
"Because I wanted to be."
Jun's jaw tightened.
"I'm only saying that maybe she—"
"Stop."
The single word cut through the room.
Eira looked up.
Ares stepped slightly closer to her.
"Don't judge her because she doesn't live like I do."
Jun frowned.
"I didn't say—"
"You didn't have to."
Ares's voice remained quiet. But there was steel beneath it.
"I see the first place where I've felt like I could breathe."
Eira's eyes softened.
Ares continued.
Then he looked directly at Jun.
Jun looked away first.
"Fine."
Ares didn't move.
"Good."
Eira quietly reached for his hand. He immediately took it. Jun sighed.
"Can we please survive the afternoon without another dramatic speech?"
Ares raised an eyebrow.
"No promises."
Eira covered her mouth to hide a laugh. Jun muttered something under his breath and walked farther inside.
The Kitchen
Ares goes toward the kitchen like an excited tourist.
"What are you doing?"
"Exploring."
"My apartment isn't a museum."
"It is today."
He picked up a small ceramic mug from the counter. Blue. White stars painted around it. There was a tiny crack near the handle.
Ares stared.
Eira stopped.
"Oh."
He turned toward her.
"This."
She smiled.
"My favorite."
"Wait."
He looked at the mug again.
"Blue with stars?"
"Yes."
"The cup you described."
She nodded.
"And the crack?"
"I told you. I glued it back together."
Ares smiled slowly.
"Too much love."
Eira's cheeks warmed.
"You remember that too?"
"I told you."
He placed the mug down carefully.
"I remember everything."
Then he noticed a shelf filled with coffee jars.
"How many kinds of coffee do you need?"
"Many."
"You're one person."
"I'm a complex person."
He laughed.
Eira's Room
After coffee, Ares noticed the stairs. He pointed.
"What's there?"
"My bedroom."
"Can I see?"
Eira raised an eyebrow.
"You're curious."
"Very."
"You've already seen half my life through a screen."
"Not this."
She hesitated for a second. Then smiled.
"Okay."
She led him upstairs to her bedroom. The door opened.
Ares stepped inside. And stopped. Her room was small but unmistakably hers. A bed covered in soft blankets. A wall filled with little notes and photographs. Books stacked beside the bed. A journal on the nightstand. Fairy lights around the window. A tiny collection of pressed flowers. And the blanket he'd heard about approximately a thousand times. He smiled.
"So this is the famous blanket."
Eira crossed her arms.
"Don't disrespect her."
He laughed.
"You've named it?"
"Obviously."
"What is her name?"
She looked embarrassed.
"You don't need to know."
"Eira."
"No."
"Eira."
"Absolutely not."
He grinned.
"Tell me."
She sighed.
"Princess Fluff."
Ares stared at her.
Then burst out laughing.
"You are unbelievable."
"Don't judge me."
"I would never."
He walked toward the bed. Then looked at her.
"This is where you talked to me?"
"Most nights."
"This is where you watched my lives?"
She nodded.
"Here?"
"Yes."
He looked around again. Something about it hit him. This tiny room had held every late-night conversation. Every nervous laugh, every confession, every moment they had fallen a little further into each other. He turned toward her.
"Eira."
"Hmm?"
"I've imagined this room."
She smiled.
"Really?"
"Not exactly."
"How did you imagine it?"
"Less books."
"Rude."
"More stars."
She laughed.
"There are stars."
He looked at her.
"Not enough."
Before she could respond, he stepped closer, then closer. Eira's smile disappeared into something softer. Ares stopped right in front of her. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then he opened his arms. She didn't hesitate. She stepped into him. His arms wrapped tightly around her. Eira laughed against his chest.
"You're hugging me again."
"I've been waiting all day."
"You already hugged me at the airport."
"That wasn't enough."
She smiled.
"You're clingy."
"Extremely."
He held her tighter. She buried her face against his jacket.
"You're warm."
"So are you."
"This is weird."
"Good weird?"
"Very good weird."
He smiled into her hair.
"I still can't believe I'm standing in your bedroom."
"And I can't believe you're standing in my bedroom."
He pulled back slightly.
"Are you nervous?"
"A little."
"Me too."
She looked up.
"You?"
"Especially me."
She laughed.
"Why?"
"Because this feels more real than anything we've done."
Her expression softened. Ares brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face.
"No screen."
He glanced around.
"No distance."
Then back at her.
"Just you."
She smiled.
"Just you too."
He pulled her into another hug.
She laughed.
"Again?"
"Yes."
"You're impossible."
"I know."
She squeezed him tighter.
"Okay."
"What?"
"You can stay."
His smile widened.
"That's dangerous information."
"Why?"
"Because I might never leave."
She laughed.
"Then I'll have to hide your passport."
"Deal."
They stayed like that for a while. Talking. Laughing. Making terrible jokes.
Eira eventually stepped back.
"You know what?"
"What?"
"You're much less intimidating in person."
Ares looked offended.
"Excuse me?"
"On posters, you look terrifyingly handsome."
"And now?"
"Now you look like a man who forgot where he put his socks."
He stared at her. Then laughed.
"You've known me for three months and you're already destroying my image."
"Someone has to."
He shook his head, smiling.
"I missed this."
"What?"
"Being stupid."
She smiled.
"Then be stupid with me."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"I'd like that."