Onyx's POV
Morning arrived without mercy.
My alarm erupted beside my head, shrill and persistent, slicing through whatever fragile dream I had been clinging to. I groaned and reached instinctively to turn it off—
—but my right hand did not move.
Because something warm was resting on top of it.
I blinked the sleep from my eyes and stared down.
Jace's fingers.
Still there.
Lightly draped over mine.
Not gripping. Not tense. Just... placed there. As if it had been the most natural position in the world.
My mind lagged behind the image in front of me.
Are you telling me his fingers stayed there all night? Did he not move at all?
I stared at our hands for a few long seconds, trying to process the scene like it was a glitch in reality. Perhaps I was still dreaming. Sleep paralysis, maybe. The very specific kind that targeted only my right hand and my dignity.
There was no way he would keep it there intentionally.
Right?
"Boss, can you turn off your alarm? It's annoying." he muttered, voice thick with sleep.
And just like that, as if nothing monumental had happened, he removed his fingers from mine and turned to the other side, dragging the blanket up to his shoulder.
I slowly sat upright.
He was already facing away from me.
Calm. Breathing steady. As if his hand had not just launched a full internal crisis inside my brain.
"Boss, the alarm..." he added again, half-asleep.
"Oh. Sorry," I said quickly, finally silencing it.
The room fell quiet.
I stared at my right hand.
There was no mark. No evidence. Just my own fingers, now strangely aware of their existence.
It was probably nothing.
Yes. Nothing.
I exhaled and forced myself to stand. Routine was safety. Routine was control.
I showered first, as usual. He followed after. Then we had breakfast together with Pa, seated around the table like this arrangement had always existed.
As if Jace had not just barged into our lives.
As if he had not become a permanent fixture in this house.
As if he were not sleeping in my bed every night like a newly installed system update I never approved but somehow could not uninstall.
* * *
By the time we reached Database Management class, the morning sunlight streamed lazily through the classroom windows. Rows of students typed away at their laptops while focusing on their projects.
Jace, however, was unusually awake.
He was actually working on his Capstone project, fingers moving across the keyboard with focus.
I pretended to work as well.
But in reality, I was waiting.
Waiting for him to bring it up.
Waiting for him to smirk and say something like, "You didn't even move your hand, Boss." or "Did you like it? Me touching your fingers?"
Waiting for the teasing.
For the humiliation.
For something.
But he said nothing.
"Boss, I have something to tell you," he said suddenly, turning toward me.
There it is.
I braced myself internally.
If he teased me, I would deny everything. I would say I had been asleep. I would say I did not notice. I would say—
"Can you check if I did this task correctly? I just want to make sure so there's less revision on my side," he continued, rotating his laptop toward me.
I blinked.
That was it?
I leaned closer to the screen, but my brain was still stuck in earlier events. I was not reading the code. I was replaying that vivid memory of our hands.
"Boss, is it correct?" he asked again.
That snapped me back.
"Sorry," I said, narrowing my eyes and finally focusing on his work.
The logic was clean. Minor structural issues, but overall solid.
"Seems like you didn't sleep well last night," he added casually. "Your eyes are a bit red. Did I move too much?"
I didn't look at him.
"No. You didn't move at all," I replied flatly. "I just wasn't comfortable sleeping with someone beside me."
He hummed.
"Well, you have to get used to it now, Boss," he said lightly. "Me and you? We're going to be really close."
He lifted his hand and intertwined his two fingers together for emphasis.
I shook my head and smirked despite myself.
"The task is good. Just minor revisions. It's passable," I said, leaning back in my chair.
"Nice!" he said with genuine enthusiasm before returning to his laptop like he had just won an award.
And while he worked—
I looked at his fingers again.
I did not want to stare.
I truly did not.
But there was something about it that refused to let my mind settle.
I could not identify what it was. Not attraction. Not irritation.
Just... awareness.
An awareness that had not existed before.
"I don't have anything to do after this class today, Boss. Want to go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?" he asked without looking up.
Oh.
He had no work today?
"Depends on my mood," I replied, eyes fixed on my screen.
"I shouldn't have asked it as a question," he said immediately. "Let me rephrase that. Let's go to the cafeteria after this class."
That sounded less like a suggestion and more like a decree.
"Fine. You always get your way anyway, even if you call me 'Boss,'" I said.
He gasped dramatically. "Are you saying I'm demanding?"
"I'm saying you're controlling and manipulative," I shot back. "Now stop chattering and finish your task."
"Okay, Boss!" he said enthusiastically, as if being called manipulative was the highlight of his morning.
* * *
The cafeteria was loud, warm, and alive with the usual university chaos.
I was already seated, my laptop open in front of me—not working on any project, because Jace had explicitly forbidden it. He had insisted I "rest," which was ironic coming from someone who inserted himself into my schedule like a calendar notification.
So instead, I occupied myself by reading an article about exoplanets—specifically Kepler-452b—while he went to buy his food.
When I had nothing urgent to do, I read about Astronomy. It felt... quiet. Vast. Distant from complicated human behavior.
"Hello, Onyx! Good morning!"
I looked up to see Melody sliding into the seat across from me.
"Oh. Hi, Melody," I said.
"I can sit here, right?" she asked brightly.
"You're already seated," I replied.
She giggled.
"I saw you were reading about exoplanets," she said, leaning slightly forward. "Is that Kepler-452b?"
"Yeah," I said, scrolling. "It's often called Earth's cousin."
Her eyes widened. "Wait — the one they said might be habitable?"
I blinked at her.
"You've read about it?" I asked.
"Of course!" she said cheerfully.
And then—
A cold glass of water landed beside my laptop with a firm clink.
Ice cubes shifted inside.
I looked up.
Jace stood there, holding another drink in his other hand.
He looked at Melody.
"Who are you?" he asked, brows furrowed.
His tone was calm.
Too calm.
I saw Melody swallow slightly.
"Her name is Melody. Third-year. Section One," I explained before she could speak.
He didn't take his eyes off her.
"Is this girl bothering you?" he asked me flatly.
"No. She's a good friend of mine," I replied.
Melody smiled shyly and bowed a little.
"Friend?" he echoed, brows lifting slightly. "Since when did you start having other friends, huh? Thought I was your only one."
"Recently," I answered.
"I see..." Jace said slowly.
He pulled the empty chair beside me without breaking eye contact with Melody, dragged it closer to me than necessary, and sat down. The legs scraped against the cafeteria floor in a sound that felt far too loud for such a simple movement. Then he leaned back—except he didn't really lean back. He draped his arm across the back of my chair instead, positioning himself close enough that the warmth from his shoulder was impossible to ignore.
Territorial.
Subtle.
Annoyingly deliberate.
"I grabbed you a drink," he added casually. "Just water with ice cubes. Exactly what you asked for."
The cold glass sweated beside my laptop.
"Thanks, Jace," I said, keeping my voice level. "What did you get for yourself?"
"Black coffee. Strong enough to keep me awake for the rest of the day," he replied.
"I could smell it from here," I said dryly.
He lifted the cup toward me. "Want to try?"
He was too close when he did that.
The steam brushed my face. Bitter. Sharp.
"No, thanks," I said with a faint smile, shaking my head.
"What else do you want? Since we're already here, I'll just buy it. A sandwich, maybe?" he asked.
"I'm still full," I answered.
"Okay." He nodded once and took a slow sip of his coffee.
"Hello. You must be Jace, right?" Melody asked brightly, trying to maintain composure.
He swallowed his coffee first before responding.
"Oh? You're still here? I didn't notice. I thought you left." Jace said.
It was so smoothly delivered that it almost sounded polite.
Almost.
"I'll be staying for a while, if that's okay with you?" She said with a determined smile.
"No, it's not okay with me," Jace replied immediately with a deadpan expression.
I elbowed him discreetly. "Hey," I whispered.
"What?" he hissed back. "She asked if it was okay with me. I said no."
"You could be more polite," I muttered.
He sighed, took another sip, and then turned to Melody with a practiced expression.
"Fine. I'll be more polite," he said. "Could you leave? Please."
I closed my eyes briefly.
He made her leave—with "please".
Very polite.
Very Jace.
"I'm here for Onyx, actually," Melody said, not backing down. "So if Onyx wants me to leave, I will. Can I stay for a while, Onyx?"
"Don't you have other friends to hang out with?" Jace cut in smoothly. "We're busy. We're about to work on a project."
"But I saw Onyx just reading something not related to any project," Melody pointed out.
"Because I told him not to start until I came back," Jace said calmly.
Why did it feel like the temperature at this table had gone up ten degrees?
"It's fine, Jace," I said finally. "She can stay."
"Whatever you say, Boss," he replied, sipping his coffee again.
"Boss..." Melody repeated under her breath, nodding slowly. She looked at him, then at me, then smiled knowingly. "So where were we? Ah! Kepler-452b. I read before that it was discovered by NASA's Kepler Space Telescope. It orbits a G-type star similar to our Sun. The orbital period is around 385 days. Am I right?"
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "You got it. You're well-informed."
"I told you, this is the kind of thing I like reading," she said, giggling. "So if you think I'd get bored talking to you, you're wrong. I think it would be fun to live on a planet just like Earth, don't you think, Onyx?"
"Actually—" I began.
"Radius of Kepler-452b is around 1.6 times Earth's," Jace interrupted casually, as if he were commenting on the weather. "Which makes it a super-Earth. Higher gravity. Might not be ideal for humans."
I blinked at him.
"You'd probably weigh more there, Boss," he added lightly before taking another sip.
"You know about this too?" I asked, eyebrows drawing together.
He raised one brow at me, unimpressed.
"There are a lot of things you still don't know about me, Boss," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into that infuriatingly smooth smirk. "I like keeping a few surprises. Makes life more interesting, doesn't it?"
I swallowed.
Of course.
Because he barely told me anything real about himself. Not his problems. Not his interests. Not what went on inside his head when he stared at the ceiling at night.
All I really knew was that he was good at teasing me.
"What I also know," he continued, ignoring my internal spiral, "is that it's about 1,400 light-years away. It sits in the habitable zone. So theoretically, liquid water could exist."
"Could," Melody corrected. "We don't know if it actually does."
"But the star is older than our Sun," Jace added. "About six billion years. If life had a chance to evolve, it's had more time than we did."
I stared at him suspiciously.
"So what part are you reading now?" he asked, as if he had not just casually dismantled my assumption that he only cared about parties and alcohol.
"Atmospheric retention," I replied. "Whether a planet that size could maintain a thick atmosphere without becoming like Venus."
"Ah," he said softly. "Runaway greenhouse effect."
Melody pointed at him dramatically. "You really know this stuff? You don't look like the type who geeks out over astronomy. You look like someone who parties every night."
"I do," Jace said with a careless shrug, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. "But only when I'm in the mood." His gaze flicked toward me, slow and deliberate, a hint of mischief settling in his eyes. "Boss knows that."
Melody looked at me.
I nodded.
Her lips parted in disbelief.
Meanwhile, Jace wore that smug grin—the one he used when he felt like he had won something no one knew we were competing for.
"You really read about these topics?" I asked him again. "Why didn't I know?"
"Then you should ask me more about what I like, Boss," he said, raising both eyebrows once. "I'll answer."
I swallowed again.
Melody cleared her throat, reclaiming the conversation. "Kepler-452b might be rocky, but we don't have direct imaging. It was detected through the transit method—the dimming of its star's light."
"Which means," Jace added smoothly, "we don't know its true mass. Just estimates."
"I wish we could go there to see what it really looks like." Melody said.
"That won't be happening anytime soon," Jace replied, his tone shifting into something unexpectedly serious. "It's fourteen hundred light-years away. Even if we left today, we wouldn't make it there in our lifetime."
Melody and I looked at him.
He leaned back slightly, as if picturing it. "We'd need a generation ship. An entire civilization living inside it—growing up, having children, growing old—just to pass the mission down to the next set of people. And maybe the next after that."
"Or cryogenics," she added confidently. "Freeze people until arrival. In your opinion, Onyx, which is better?"
Why did I suddenly feel like I had joined an astronomy debate club against my will?
"You're both wrong," I said calmly.
They both turned toward me at the same time.
Melody blinked.
Jace paused mid-sip.
"Cryogenics at that scale is still theoretical," I continued. "And multi-generational ships would require a fully self-sustaining biosphere—oxygen production, food systems, radiation shielding, and a psychologically stable population."
I rested my elbows on the table.
"It's not about which sounds cooler. It's about feasibility."
Melody tilted her head. "So what's your answer?"
I glanced briefly at Jace before answering.
"We're not ready," I said.
"What if I am ready?" Jace asked quietly.
I replied, "We haven't even figured out how to live properly on this one."
Silence fell over the table.
Melody nodded thoughtfully.
Jace didn't laugh.
I lifted my glass of water and took a sip.
"If we can't handle distance, ego, politics, and resource distribution here," I continued lightly, "what makes us think we'll survive 1,400 light-years away? And even if we do, humans are greedy. The first to discover land, water, resources—they'll claim ownership. Unless we remove that trait, we won't live freely anywhere."
Melody laughed softly. "That's... actually true."
But Jace didn't laugh.
When I looked at him—
He wasn't smirking.
He wasn't teasing.
He was just looking at me.
Quietly.
Like I had just said something far more important than astronomy.
"You can't erase greed, Boss," he said after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, stripped of its usual teasing edge. "It's wired into us. Humans are greedy by nature." His gaze didn't waver. "If we want something—no matter how small, how distant, how impossible—we'll find a way to reach for it."
The words settled between us like something deliberately placed—measured, intentional.
"I can be greedy too," he said lightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Just depends on what I decide is mine."
The cafeteria buzzed around us in its usual chaos—plates clinking, chairs dragging, someone laughing too loudly at a joke that was not that funny. The air smelled like burnt espresso and over-fried chicken. Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows, laying warm stripes across our table.
Jace leaned back in his chair, casual as ever. Too casual.
"But distance doesn't fix people either," he added.
Melody blinked, her spoon hovering midair. "What?"
"If humans are selfish here, they'll be selfish there," he continued calmly. "Changing location doesn't change nature."
His voice was steady. Controlled. Not teasing.
His eyes flicked to mine.
Not accidentally.
"But sometimes," he said, softer now, "it's not about escaping to another planet."
The noise around us dulled.
It was subtle. Nothing dramatic happened. No music swelled. No one dropped a tray.
And yet—
Silence.
"It's about figuring things out where you already are."
Figuring things out where you already are.
The sentence slipped under my ribs and lodged itself there.
I looked at him.
He was already looking at me.
Not smiling. Not joking. Not wearing that infuriatingly smug expression he usually had when he called me Boss just to irritate me.
Serious.
And then I felt it.
A small, almost accidental pressure against the side of my knuckle.
I looked down.
My hand rested on the table, fingers relaxed.
Right beside it was his.
He was holding his coffee cup, but his knuckle brushed lightly against mine. Not gripping. Not deliberate enough to accuse. Just... there.
A coincidence.
Probably.
My throat tightened.
It was the same hand.
The same hand that had rested over mine overnight.
The same hand that hadn't moved until morning.
"What are you thinking, Boss?" he asked suddenly.
I flinched.
It was subtle, but he saw it.
I pulled my hand back and placed it on my lap as if the table had suddenly become too hot.
"You're right," I said, forcing my voice into something stable. "We can figure it out where we already are. We just have to learn and understand everything—even if it takes time." I paused. "Just give me time..." I added more quietly than I intended.
His gaze did not soften.
"Don't take it too slow," he said. "We humans have limited lifespans. We don't even know when we're going to die. So just do whatever you can to fully enjoy the present."
I looked at him.
Enjoy the present.
"Enjoying the present is inefficient," I said automatically.
It was instinct. Reflex. Logic over impulse.
He didn't laugh.
"Inefficient?" he repeated.
"Yes. If you focus too much on the present, you neglect planning for the future. Planning prevents damage."
The words left my mouth too quickly.
Too rehearsed.
I didn't know why I said that.
Jace tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was the one presenting a theory now.
"Damage from what, Boss?" he asked.
I held his gaze for two seconds too long.
Two seconds is a long time when you are looking at someone like that.
"From mistakes," I answered. "The fewer mistakes, the better."
He didn't blink.
"Some mistakes are worth it," he said quietly.
The cafeteria noise rushed back in, but it felt far away, like it belonged to another dimension where people worried about quizzes and group projects instead of... whatever this was.
"And I'd be damned if I don't try," he continued, "even if I know it might end badly."
My heartbeat betrayed me.
Try what?
End badly how?
I stared at his coffee cup just to avoid answering questions he hadn't technically asked.
My mind drifted somewhere dangerous. Somewhere that replayed hands resting over mine in the dark.
"It's time for your next class, Boss," he said suddenly.
The spell snapped.
"Oh. Right. I almost forgot," I muttered.
"You too, go back to your class," he added.
I followed his gaze.
Melody.
She was still there.
I had forgotten.
How?
It was as if Jace's gravitational pull intensified whenever he decided to focus on someone. Like he bent the space around him without effort. Conversations narrowed. Background noise blurred. Even my own thoughts reorganized themselves around his presence.
Melody blinked again, looking between us like she had just witnessed a scene she wasn't meant to understand.
And maybe she had.
Because whatever that was—
It was not about another planet.
It was about right here.
Right now.
And I was beginning to suspect that planning for zero mistakes might already be too late.
I had always believed that control meant safety.
But now—
I wasn't even sure which part of this I had already lost.
End of Chapter 23