HQ should have been half-asleep at this hour. It never was—not completely—but there was always a rhythm to it. Today, that rhythm was gone. The building was awake, and Luca had the distinct feeling it wasn't for him.
The place didn't feel different at first, and that was what made it worse. Luca stepped through the entrance as he always did—same time, same coat settled neatly over his shoulders, and even the same expression, composed in his usual practiced way that made him look far more put-together than he felt most mornings.
Everything appeared the same: the floors were polished, the quiet hum of mana through the infrastructure was present, and even the faint scent of ink and old paper that never quite left the place, though no one else seemed to smell it, was there. And yet, Luca couldn't help but pause on his path toward his office.
HQ was already bustling with people. Not only the early risers, like Luca, who were very few people, but also those who never came to work. Conversations murmured low along the corridors, footsteps overlapping in a way that didn't match the hour. Several faces that he didn't usually see flickered past him in his periphery, and he fought the urge to wave at them.
Some of them glanced at him, then looked away just as quickly.
Luca frowned faintly, confused, but quickly masked it up with a smile as he kept passing by.
"Hm… weird."
He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve absentmindedly, eyes scanning the hallway as he moved deeper inside. And still, the rhythm of the entire place seemed off. Luca had always been able to detect the smallest change in things, and he had a feeling this was one of the many cases where he was right.
It was as if everyone had been given information that he hadn't.
He turned a corner, his footsteps quieter now against the floor. The further he went, the more deliberate everything felt. Even the assistant was carrying documents slightly too carefully. Either Zayn had been angered and everyone was suffering from his unsuppressed mana, something had gone horribly wrong, or something had happened behind his back and he was late to the party.
A faint pressure settled into his chest—not even worry, but awareness.
Luca's gaze sharpened, catching tiny details as he passed.
A senior archivist crossed the hall, who was someone who usually didn't arrive until midday. Two field agents were near the east wing, dressed for deployment but not moving. A cluster of assistants were whispering near the lifts, but they went quiet the second Luca came into range. One of them glanced at him, nodded awkwardly, and looked away just as quickly.
Luca nodded back immediately but couldn't help frowning for real when he left their line of sight. That was kind of offensive. Anyone could tell they were talking about him.
He adjusted the fall of his coat, fingers brushing briefly over the hidden lines beneath the fabric before dropping again. A grounding habit that was subtle and unnoticeable.
Something had been happening, and no one was telling him. He couldn't help but feel a little anxious and unsettled.
"High grade?" He thought. "Council-level?"
Maybe. But even then, people didn't normally act like this. Especially not the whole building. Was he getting fired? But he had made sure to be the most flawless employee from the very first moment he had entered TSL.
Luca exhaled slowly, stepping into the elevator to the eighth floor to his office… which was near Zayn's. The elevator was faster than he could blink, and he found himself standing in the corridor before he could fully register it.
And then he saw it. Zayn's office door. Something he had been deliberately ignoring for days. The door was closed, which was not unusual. What surprised him was that it hadn't opened for the assistant who stood, waiting in front of it. They were just… there.
The moment Luca stepped forward, their posture straightened. Way too quickly.
"Investigator Sterling," they said, already moving toward him. "Director Vyserion is expecting you.
Luca stopped just short of the door. "Director's expecting me? Really?" He repeated quietly, seeking absolute certainty.
"Yes."
They didn't hesitate and didn't even check for confirmation. Something in Luca's chest shifted subtly but enough for him to notice.
"Did he perhaps say why…?"
"No. Only that you should come as soon as you arrive."
Of course. Zayn never explained things in advance… and he only ever explained them in ways that would benefit him. Every time.
And yet, this felt different. Luca's gaze flicked to the door as his fingers itched to dump out his confused mind into his notebook, which sat in his inner coat pocket. The door was closed and waiting for him. Not the assistant, but him.
He suddenly became aware of the space around him—the corridor too still, the assistant still watching, and the distant murmur of voices that didn't quite reach them. It was as if this part of HQ had been cut out and set aside for whatever was about to happen next.
"...Right," Luca said softly, flashing the assistant a light smile before his hand lifted toward the doorknob. He paused, just for a second, as a strange thought crossed his mind uninvited.
"If I go in there, something changes. But what?"
He knew nothing would change too majorly or dramatically, but just enough. Enough that he wouldn't be standing there the same way when he came back out.
Luca huffed quietly under his breath, almost at himself. He set down his umbrella and mentally prepared himself.
"You got this, Luca," he murmured, as if this were something he should be afraid of.
***
Luca knocked lightly before stepping into the awfully familiar but comforting office. Surprisingly. It was as if he had been there yesterday, but he hadn't.
"Sit," Zayn said, not glancing away from his files. There was nothing sharp in his tone, nothing outwardly wrong—but it carried a weight that made Luca hesitate for just a second longer than usual, his hand still resting on the handle before he pushed the door shut behind him.
The click echoed softly in the room, but it felt louder than it should have. It was final in a way that made the space feel smaller and quieter, as if something had just been sealed in with them.
"Am I in trouble, director?" Luca asked, attempting a lightness that didn't quite settle.
Zayn lifted his gaze then. "No." What was up with the one-word responses? Luca was really beginning to think that he actually was in trouble, but Zayn was hiding it from him. The following pause was brief, not long enough to be called silence, yet long enough to be noticed.
Zayn gestured toward the seat in front of him once again as calmly as a famished cheetah.
Luca moved to the chair across from the desk, slower than he normally would have, his attention lingering on Zayn in a way he didn't bother to hide. It wasn't anything too obvious, and Zayn didn't seem to notice. He looked as composed as ever, posture straight, expression controlled—but there was something in the stillness of him that felt… deliberate.
Like he was holding himself there.
Zayn didn't look away as Luca sat. His gaze remained fixed, steady, almost too steady, before he reached forward and slid a file across the desk.
The motion was smooth and precise, stopping exactly where Luca could reach it—no closer.
Luca glanced down, and the moment he read the name, his expression shifted. It was just as expected.
"Ha… Scovina," Luca said tentatively. It came out quieter than he intended, and he hadn't meant to word it so poorly. His fingers hovered over the file for a brief moment before settling against its edge, his grip tightening slightly as if to anchor it in place. "T-the siren dukedom case, I mean," he corrected himself.
Zayn leaned back in his chair, the movement controlled but not entirely effortless. There was a faint tension in it, something restrained beneath the ease he presented, as his eyes remained on Luca. "It has been officially classified as a High-Grade Sovereign matter after being thoroughly verified by me."
Luca let out a soft breath, something like disbelief brushing through it, and yet he could not keep his eyes from tracing the length of Zayn's fingers or looking too deeply into his eyes. "That's not—" he shook his head. "That's not something I should be touching, I—"
"It is," Zayn replied evenly, "if you choose to." The word lingered, replaying in Luca's mind like a persistent, never-ending chorus.
Luca's brows drew together, his thumb pressing faintly into the edge of the file. "Choose?" he repeated, as if he weren't sure he'd heard that right. "I know she chose me… right in front of me, but I thought that cases like these require… magic."
"They could," Zayn said, pausing briefly. "But not this one."
There was something in the pause that didn't feel empty. Luca couldn't quite place it, but he felt it. Zayn's gaze did not leave him, not even for a moment. It held steady, quiet, and intent, as though he were watching not just for Luca's answer but also for how he arrived at it. Luca felt his pulse quicken.
"You have the option to decline."
That was what made Luca hesitate even further. For one, he already had his own case that he'd been actively working on, and now, just because some duchess wanted him, he was put into a complicated position. The fact that Zayn was stepping back to the point of even giving him a choice… it all confused him.
"...Why me?" Luca asked, softer now.
Zayn's expression remained mostly the same, but something in his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly before he answered. And Luca saw it. He always did.
"Because you are capable of doing it," Zayn replied.
Luca exhaled slowly, almost wrinkling the file in his grasp. "That's not a valid answer."
Zayn held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, leaning in ever so slightly. There was something there, brief and restrained, like a thought he chose not to voice. "It is the only one you need." The words were calm and measured, but not untouched.
Luca looked down again, opening the file just enough to skim the contents. The quiet sound of the paper moving seemed louder in the stillness of the room, and Zayn just… watched. The entire time.
"The elves are being suspected," he murmured.
Zayn nodded.
Luca's eyes moved across the page, slower now. "And you don't believe it."
Zayn didn't respond. He didn't need to. The silence carried it.
Luca leaned back slightly in his chair, palming his face in his hands in frustration. One hand came up to rub at the back of his neck as he exhaled. "This is going to be such a mess."
It was five in the morning, and Luca's brain had already been forced into overtime.
Zayn's quiet gaze shifted, just for a moment, slightly past Luca, as though something else had crossed his mind. When he spoke, his voice was steady, but there was a faint edge beneath it. "Most things worth doing are."
Luca's breath caught in his throat, and his jaw felt like dropping six feet below. Zayn had merely spoken five words, yet Luca noticed the unusual softness Zayn had in his voice when he said that. Although he wanted to, he did not comment on it.
"What happens if I say no?"
Zayn's eyes returned fully to him. He took Luca's hand into his, gently, almost as if he had done it naturally. "Then you say no."
Luca tentatively retrieved his hand, resting it on his thigh under the table. Zayn's answer had come without hesitation, and yet, there was something contained in it—something that made it feel less like indifference and more like restraint.
Luca's fingers tightened slightly against the file before he forced them to loosen again. He wasn't really reading anymore. It was painfully obvious.
"...And if I agreed?" he asked quietly.
Zayn didn't answer him immediately this time. The pause was subtle, but it was there. Then,
"You will be representing The Sovereign Ledger in a sovereign territory," he said.
His voice was lower now, more deliberate. "You will be trusted with something no human has been trusted with in decades."
Luca swallowed, his eyes dropping back to the page, though he wasn't seeing it anymore. "I'd have to leave immediately then, right?"
"Yes."
The response came a fraction too quickly. It wasn't enough to draw attention, but enough to feel.
Something in Zayn's hand shifted against the desk before stilling again, the movement small but subtle, like he had caught it before it could become anything more. The silence that followed was deeper this time. Heavier.
Luca became aware of the rain against the windows, the dim lighting, and the quiet hum of the room—and of Zayn, sitting across from him, composed in a way that felt just slightly too rigid.
He shook it off. "Alright," he managed to say, looking a tad bit warmer. Zayn didn't react, not even the slightest twitch.
Luca screamed internally, embarrassed at how much courage it took him to come to that conclusion.
Finally, Zayn raised an eyebrow.
Luca lifted his gaze, something steady forming behind it despite the weight sitting in his chest. "I-I'll take it. The case. But I need to know, what will happen to my current one?"
Zayn's jaw tightened—barely. His gaze shifted downward for the briefest second before returning to Luca, his expression settling back into place as though nothing had happened at all. But Luca saw it—felt it. The slight fracture in his composure.
"Your case will be transferred to an elite investigator. You will depart this evening."
Luca nodded tentatively, not knowing how he should act or feel. But he knew one thing.
That something about this—about him taking the case—wasn't as neutral as Zayn was pretending it was.
And still, neither of them said anything more.
***
Luca had not known how to feel after his conversation with Zayn. One day, they were close to the point where Luca could physically feel himself overheating, and the next… they were just nothing. Heck, who was Zayn to him? Who was he to Zayn? Because he knew for a fact that Zayn no longer saw him as a normal employee. No one spent as much time caring for a single employee as Zayn did, and yet, Luca was still puzzled. Troubled. Scared.
Luca slumped into his office chair, staring at his hands. He already had everything that he needed for transportation: a train ticket and a ferry ticket. The sirens lived underwater, but they had advanced enough magical capabilities to grant him a temporary ability to breathe for the duration of his stay.
Luca huffed, pulling out his phone. He hadn't had much time to really communicate with anyone for the past week. He scrolled through his contacts and, to his surprise, found three unopened messages from Kaz.
Kaz: "Luca, let's go to a cafe!"
Kaz: "Hello? Anyone home?"
Kaz: "I see; you must be busy or something. Anyways, let's go to a cafe when you return!"
Luca smiled faintly, amused by Kaz's silliness. He had also sent an attachment of him leaning against a bench after getting his hair done. It was the prettiest, shiniest silver Luca had ever seen.
Luca: "Hi, Kaz. Sorry, I was too busy. Let's go sometime after my trip!"
Kaz typed back almost immediately, as though he had been waiting for ages.
Kaz: "How about… now? Are you free?"
Luca's eyes widened slightly before going deep in thought. He was leaving in the afternoon, so he still had a couple of hours to himself. He hadn't said his goodbyes yet—neither to his family nor to anyone at all. And Kaz wanted to hang out. It was a great opportunity.
Luca: "Sure. Let's do MoonSun Cafe near TSL HQ."
Kaz: "See you, Lucy!"
Luca smiled wider after seeing that message. It wasn't uncommon for his friends and relatives to begin calling him "Lucy" after knowing him for some time. It was like a random habit everyone developed eventually. First, it was his mom; then Lilah and Max, and then everyone else. Except for one. But he wasn't sure if he could consider that person a "friend."
***
The tea had already been poured by the time Luca sat down. The cafe buzzed around them—soft chatter, the hiss of the espresso machines, clinking cups, and a barista calling out orders in a cheerful sing-song. The rain, which had been going on nonstop for days, tapped lightly against the windows, and the warm amber glow of the hanging lanterns made the place feel like a pocket away from the storm outside.
Kaz didn't even ask what Luca wanted. He didn't need to. He just slid the cup across the table with an easy smile, just happy to be there. His fingers brushed lightly against Luca's fingers for half a second longer than necessary, causing Luca to jump a little.
"You look cute when you're stressed, Lucy," he said, like it was a completely normal observation. Luca nearly choked on air. "That's—no, nope."
"Mm," Kaz hummed, unconvinced. "I think it's the eyebrows," he remarked, sounding a tad too bright.
"My eyebrows?" Luca echoed, subconsciously tracing the line of an eyebrow at the mention. Were they overgrown?
Kaz leaned in slightly closer, tilting his head as if inspecting them. "Very expressive. I'm totally a fan!"
Luca leaned back a fraction, heat creeping up his face. "Unbelievable."
"I get that a lot; I don't know why," Kaz said lightly, looking thoughtful, scanning the cafe around them, yet his attention never fully left Luca. "But still, that subconscious twitch when you're thinking hard—which is all the time—is totally so adorable."
"I don't know why, my foot," Luca thought, though he possessed zero negative feelings leading to that thought.
"Adorable? Really?" he responded flatly. He was not adorable.
A small pause settled, comfortable rather than awkward. Kaz took a delicate sip of his tea, then reached over without thinking and straightened Luca's sleeve where it had folded slightly at the wrist. The touch lingered just long enough to make Luca's finger tingle. Kaz really had no restrictions when it came to touching people just because he felt like it. Still, he wasn't complaining.
Luca tried to sit still, his fingers wrapping tighter around the teacup that Kaz had insisted on ordering him. He lifted it for a sip, but Kaz's sly, intense gaze followed every movement, making him falter.
"You're barely touching it," Kaz said, looking concerned.
"Erm, yeah, I just finished eating a five-course meal 10 minutes ago," Luca lied.
"Yeah, totally," Kaz answered sarcastically, which took Luca by surprise because, since when was Kaz sarcastic?
"I—I am drinking it though! Just… slowly," Luca stammered, but the cup barely moved.
Kaz raised an eyebrow, and the tilt always made Luca's chest tighten and his stomach flip. "Sure you are. Don't you think I'm so pretty?" he asked, elbows on the table, fluttering his lashes playfully. Luca knew he was joking, but damn.
Luca's heart thumped audibly in his chest. "What—I—" he tried to sip the tea again, but his hands shook slightly, betraying him in plain sight. He screamed internally, hoping he'd be granted 'instant incineration.'
Kaz's finger traced a light line along the edges of Luca's hand as he set down the sugar, brushing the skin in a touch so delicate it felt like static electricity. "Mm, see? You do!"
Luca swallowed hard, heat blazing across his cheek. Why did Kaz possess such blinding beauty? Unfair. "Kaz—don't—"
Kaz smirked, leaning back, just enough to keep the air between them charged. "I can't help it if you're acting so flustered. And shy. And perhaps gorgeous, too. And also… hm." He tapped his chin lightly, eyes glittering, "a little bit captivated by me," he chuckled.
Luca's eyes widened, his jaw dropping to the floor. He laughed awkwardly, trying to hide behind something—anything. "Hah… maybe I am," he admitted, voice faint.
A brief moment of silence followed before Kaz spoke again. "So, Lucy, what happened? Don't think I haven't noticed."
Luca blinked down at the table for a second before answering. He had been caught. "I… got assigned a case."
Kaz's eyes lit up a little. "Oh? What kind?"
"A High-Grade Sovereign one," he admitted, keeping his voice low and fidgeting with his thumbs under the table.
Kaz blinked once, then smiled softly. "Wow… isn't that a big deal? Isn't that great?" he smiled.
"It is," Luca muttered, staring off into the distance. The teacup's warmth was comforting, but he was too distracted to notice it.
Kaz tilted his head. "But you're not doing the whole proud, excited thing," he observed.
Luca let out a quiet breath. "Yeah… I know," he muttered. "I'm allowed to say no, and I've already got this case I'm working on…" he trailed off.
Kaz's brows lifted slightly, curiosity sparking in his sly smile. "Oh? And are you going to?"
Luca didn't answer right away. Kaz didn't push for one, either. He just traced the rim of his cup idly, then, under the table, let his knee brush lightly against Luca's. A small, teasing nudge.
"...I don't know," Luca muttered, frowning slightly.
Kaz smiled faintly. "You do," he said simply.
"...I literally just said I don't."
"I know, but you've been wanting the case since you sat down."
"No, I haven't," Luca denied while knowing Kaz was right.
"You have," Kaz cut in gently, almost amused. "You know it."
A small pause. Then, softer—more earnest—Kaz asked, "Did someone personal ask you to take it? Is that why you're so worried?"
Luca froze for half a second. That was all Kaz needed.
"Oh," he murmured, not unkindly. "There it is," his eyes lit up.
Luca looked away immediately, cheeks flushing. "...It's not like that."
Kaz didn't argue or disagree, but instead, he reached over absentmindedly and tapped Luca lightly on the forehead with two fingers. "Liar," he said softly.
Luca swatted his hand away. This man was insufferable. "I'm not lying!"
Kaz just smiled to himself, like he'd already decided the truth that he'd believe. "Whatever you say, cutie."
That somehow felt worse. Luca frowned, groaning into his hands and face-planting into the table, letting out a frustrated noise. "You're so annoying."
"Oh, but you like my humour, and you still came to see me," Kaz pointed out, laughing lightly.
"…That doesn't mean anything," Luca mumbled.
Kaz leaned forward slightly, chin resting on his hand, his eyes warm and his grin cheeky. "It means you like me a little, Lucy."
Luca looked up, absolutely done and dumbfounded. "Absolutely not. I'm going to throw up," he joked.
Kaz snickered. "Just a little bit," he added generously.
Luca looked like he wanted to argue—he did—and then gave up. Kaz smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "So," Kaz said, switching gears smoothly. "That means you're leaving me? All alone?"
Luca sat up, staring down at his untouched tea, finally managing a tiny sip that warmed up his mouth. "Yeah… this evening.
Kaz frowned dramatically and made tiny noises of distress as if Luca were going to the army. Then, he ceased all reactions. He nodded slowly, not upset or surprised, but accepting. "Okay," he said.
"Okay," Luca echoed.
"I won't dramatically forbid you from leaving. That was… just something funny I wanted to do so you could remember the silly reaction for, hm… preferably eternity!"
"Shut up," Luca joked.
A small pause, and then Kaz reached over, slowly, taking Luca's hand in his own. "But I will say something a little annoying before you go."
Luca narrowed his eyes. "...I'm bracing myself."
Kaz's smile turned sly again. "Make sure you're choosing this case—not because someone made it sound like the right thing," he said gently, "but because you actually want it."
Luca stilled. Kaz held his gaze—warm, certain, not pushing, just holding.
Then, as easily as it had happened, he leaned back, letting the moment dissolve into the hum of the cafe.
Luca stood up, gathering his things. Kaz followed, rising with a playful approach. "It's all happening too fast; I might just drop down right now."
Luca hesitated, feeling that pull in his chest—a sudden rush of unexplained anger thrashing past him. He raked a hand through his hair, startled. "Don't do that in the middle of a public cafe… and I have to. For the case."
Kaz leaned in, arms opening slightly. "Well then… I'm going to miss you."
Luca stepped forward into the hug, the smells of the cafe and the chatter fading around them. It was brief but grounding, Kaz's warmth lingering in his mind as Luca pulled back slightly.
"I'll miss you too, Kaz."
Kaz smiled. "I'm sure your case will be fine," he said. "And you should solve the case quickly so I can see your eyebrows sooner," he teased.
"Shush it, you," Luca muttered in response.
And after they had paid the bill, in which Kaz had persuaded Luca into letting him pay, Kaz decided to stay in the cafe for just a while longer. Luca said one last goodbye, waved, and headed toward the exit.
He stepped out into the rain, the warmth of the cafe fading almost instantly. He stood there, staring at his phone, droplets gathering along the screen before sliding off in thin lines. There were three contacts at the top.
Mom.
Vae.
Margot.
His thumb hovered over the call button, but he couldn't bring himself to tap it. Instead, he typed. "Got assigned a sudden case. I'll be away for a bit. I'll explain when I'm back."
He reread it twice before hitting send. And just as fast as it had sent, the replies came back immediately.
Mom: "Away? Where? Lucy, call me."
Vae: "???"
Vae: "Sterling, what do you MEAN by 'a bit'? Where are you going? I'm going to be alone at work!"
Vae: "STERLING!!"
Margot: "Don't die."
A quiet breath slipped out of him with something soft pulling at his chest. A small, helpless smile followed as he failed to keep it in. And yet, he didn't reply. Not yet.
"I'll call later," he told himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket before unfurling his umbrella and walking toward his car.
Next destination: Back to the Sovereign Ledger's Headquarters.
***
Luca knocked hesitantly on the door, folding his umbrella and hanging it on the rack just outside of Zayn's office. His fingers trembled slightly—it may have been nervousness or fear. Luca didn't know. The door wasted no time before opening smoothly and swiftly, and Luca took five slow, deep breaths before walking in.
The office was dim, with only one floor lamp illuminating the space, and Zayn was not in sight. He wasn't in his office chair, nor was he sitting on the loveseat at the far end of the room. Luca furrowed his brows, walking around the office in confusion. He stopped at the windows and opened the curtains. They were never closed.
To his surprise, Zayn stood outside in the pouring rain. No umbrella. No raincoat. He wore only a pair of black slacks and a tie but no shirt. Luca palmed his face. Never in his twenty-five years of living had he seen such questionable clothing choices. But he wasn't going to question it; he preferred to avoid getting migraines. He walked closer, wondering why Zayn had not addressed him yet. He was the one who granted him permission to walk in by opening the door, after all.
Shrugging, Luca slid open the glass door to the balcony, whose spaciousness resembled that of a small backyard.
"Shouldn't have left my umbrella," Luca thought to himself. He was about to get drenched in the rain because of his own irresponsibility.
The rain drummed steadily against the balcony railing; it wasn't a storm, yet it was constant enough to fill the silence between breaths. The stone beneath Luca's shoes was slick, faintly reflective, catching fragments of light from inside before the water blurred them away. It was evident that the air was cold. It clung to his skin, slipped beneath his collar, and soaked slowly through the fabric of his coat—but none of it felt as sharp as it should have. Not with Zayn standing there. Sipping wine. That wasn't a good sign.
Luca contemplated leaving, since Zayn was obviously in a sour mood, but then again, he couldn't miss his chance of at least saying one thing. A simple "bye" would be good enough.
Luca had honestly expected at least something. A remark, a dismissal, anything but the uncomfortable quiet.
Zayn just stood quietly near the balcony, one hand resting loosely against the railing, his posture as composed as ever. From a distance, he looked untouched by the rain, by the cold, by anything at all. But that wasn't true. Luca knew better than to believe that.
There was something in the stillness of him. It was too deliberate, too controlled, as if he were hiding himself in place instead of simply standing there.
Luca adjusted his grip on his suitcase handle, his fingers tightening slightly before he forced them to relax. Didn't help. Nothing helped. He could still feel it—the conversation they had had earlier. The way Zayn acted indifferent to everything, the way his jaw tightened slightly when Luca agreed, and the way everything had just been… off.
And now here they were.
Alone again.
In the rain, with neither of them speaking.
"...Hi," Luca said finally, the words leaving him before he could reconsider them… just to fill the space. "You're kind of quiet today…" he murmured.
Zayn's gaze finally shifted to him when he turned around to face him. He wasn't even caught off guard, as if he had been counting every second that Luca stood there. "I usually am," he replied.
That was true. His tone was even, but there was something beneath it—something Luca couldn't quite place. It wasn't indifference, nor was it irritation, but something tighter.
Luca let out a small breath, glancing briefly toward the slicked edge of the balcony before looking back at him. "Mhm, but not like this," he said quietly, standing next to Zayn with both hands on the railing.
For a moment, Zayn's gaze lingered on him, unreadable, but not distant. If anything, it felt more focused than usual. As if he were paying attention to everything.
The way Luca stood.
The way he held the suitcase.
The way he hadn't left yet.
The way his eyes roamed all over his face, analyzing his expression, taking in his features.
"...You should go soon," Zayn said at last.
Simple. Reasonable. But it didn't sound like a suggestion.
Luca's fingers tightened again, just slightly. "I will," he said, a bit too quickly. Then, quieter, "I just…" he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. He didn't know how, because what was he supposed to say? "Goodbye?" That didn't feel right.
Zayn's gaze flickered briefly, almost imperceptibly, to Luca's hand. Then back to his face. "You're hesitating, Sterling," he said.
Luca huffed faintly, the sound more breath than amusement. "I'm not."
"Mm." Zayn tilted his head faintly, studying him in a way that made Luca's chest feel tighter than it should have. "You are," he said, quieter now. Certain.
Luca looked away for a second, jaw tightening. "It's just—" he started, then stopped again, frustrated at himself more than anything. Why was this hard for him? "It's a long trip," he managed to say. Weakly. He knew it was weak the second it left his mouth. Zayn did too.
Something shifted in his expression, small but there. Not quite anything Luca could name.
"Is that what it is?" Zayn asked softly.
Luca didn't answer. He couldn't. Because it wasn't. And they both knew it.
The silence stretched again, heavier this time, settling into the space between them like the rain itself—steady, unavoidable. Zayn stepped closer. Once and then again. The distance between them closed without effort, without hesitation, like it had never been there to begin with.
Luca didn't move. Didn't step back or move forward. He just… remained on feet planted.
Zayn stepped close enough that Luca could feel the difference immediately—the faint, familiar warmth of him despite the cold, the quiet pressure of his presence, the way the air seemed to shift just from him being there.
Luca's breath caught in his throat slightly. He hated the fact that it did.
Zayn's gaze dropped—briefly, deliberately—to Luca's hand again, still tight around the suitcase. Still not letting go.
"...You look like you're bracing yourself for something," Zayn murmured.
Luca swallowed. "I'm not."
"Mm."
He wasn't convinced. Of course he wasn't. Zayn's eyes lifted back to his, slower this time, more deliberate—like he was choosing exactly where to look and exactly how long to hold it.
It made Luca's chest feel weird. Too tight. Too aware.
A pause settled between them, not quite empty but full. Full of everything they weren't voicing aloud.
Then his hand lifted, not quite touching at first, before brushing lightly against Luca's arm.
Zayn's silver eyes softened for a fraction too long, and his hand lingered on Luca's wrist, brushing lightly—teasing, but not playful. Dangerous in a quieter way.
Luca swallowed, and every alarm in his body was telling him to leave before it was too late. Before he reached the point of no return.
"You're shaking," Zayn murmured, his voice low and almost thoughtful. "And you're still standing here, despite my silence."
Luca's chest tightened. "Well, I—"
Before he could say anything else, Zayn set down his glass of wine and moved a final step closer, not rushed, not hesitant, but certain of his next move.
Luca's back met the cold railing, the metal pressing through his coat as the rain soaked into everything, clinging, seeping—but none of it registered the way Zayn did, suddenly too close, too real. And Luca couldn't keep his eyes from wandering down to Zayn's exposed bare skin. It wasn't his fault—he tried to stop himself… but Zayn was so close, soaked in rain, breathing steadily, whispering to him with that voice of his.
"I… I can't—" Luca started, the words catching somewhere between his chest and his throat.
"Can't what?" Zayn said softly, closing the remaining distance until there was barely any space left between them. His beautiful silver eyes sank into Luca's gaze, drinking in every detail, breathing so close to him in a way that made Luca's hair stand up. His forehead was just shy of Luca's, his voice quiet now—strained at the edges in a way that Luca had never heard before.
"Walk away?" He continued softly. "Pretend that you don't feel this?"
His thumb lifted, tracing along the edges of Luca's jaw, slow and deliberate—tilting his face just enough that looking away became difficult.
Luca felt his heart thump hard in his chest at an alarming pace, as if on the verge of losing control. His breath hitched once more, and that was all it took.
Zayn fully closed the distance, kissing him, not hard, not immediately.
It started controlled and measured, like every Zayn did—slow and testing, like he was giving Luca time to stop him.
Luca practically melted, his brain too stunned to process any thoughts, let alone stop him.
Luca's hands found their way up against Zayn's solid chest on instinct, fingers curling against his abs, not pushing him away—just holding on, like he needed something to steady himself.
That was when the control slipped. Zayn rested his hands on the small of Luca's back, pressing him against him, deepening the kiss just enough to feel the shift—frustration was threading through it now, something sharper, something that had been building up long before this moment. His hand tightened slightly at Luca's wrist, the other bracing against the railing above him, closing him in without force. Rain slid down between them, cold against overheated skin, soaking through everything—but it only made it feel more intense.
Zayn's pupils shifted into long slits, and the silver of his eyes shone brighter than Luca had ever seen before.
"Too close, too much" was the only thought Luca could form.
His knees threatened to give, and Zayn adjusted him without thinking, pressing just slightly closer, grounding him, holding him there, not letting him fall, not letting him go.
When they finally broke apart, it wasn't clean. Luca felt like jelly all over, stunned by everything that had just happened to him.
Their breaths lingered, uneven, mixing in the narrow space between them, foreheads against each other's, neither of them fully pulling away.
"Z-Zayn," Luca whispered, voice unsteady, barely holding it together.
Zayn didn't answer immediately, and for a moment, he just looked at him. Really looked at him, like he was committing something to memory.
Then—a faint smirk returned. Softer, but not lighter. "…That's exactly what I didn't want to do," he said quietly. A pause. "And exactly what I've been holding back."
Luca exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping for a second before he forced it back up. "…We can't," he whispered. "This…" he flailed his arms around.
"Mm," Zayn murmured, his thumb brushing once more over Luca's knuckles, slower now—but no less intentional.
"No. We can't." But he didn't move away just yet.
"You feel it, too," he added, quieter this time and without teasing. He just knew he was right.
Luca slapped himself mentally before answering. "I do," the words came out softer than he meant them to.
Zayn exhaled slowly, something in his expression shifting, like he was putting his walls of control and restraint back up, just like before.
"…Go," he said at last. "Your train arrives in an hour… but don't pretend that this never happened."
Luca nodded faintly, still trying to steady his breathing, picking up his suitcase again.
"I won't."
Zayn watched him for a second longer. "Mm." He let go of his wrist at last, but the space between them still felt occupied, like something had been left there, something neither of them could take back.
Luca was absolutely going to pretend that this never happened. Ever.
"And don't forget how this feels," Zayn added. "Because I won't. Never."
"I won't." And then Luca left him standing there.
The rain kept falling, steady and cold. But none of it reached Luca anymore, not really. Not with the heat still burning under his skin.