"Ms. Larson, it's dangerous for you to walk home from here," Levi urged, his worry evident as he pulled over to the curb, his eyes searching hers for some sign she'd listen.
"It's really okay. It's very near. It will take only two minutes. Thank you for today, Mr. Thompson," Maya said, her hand already on the door handle. She was determined to end the day on her terms, not wanting to be a burden.
"Still..." Levi started, but Maya was out of the car before he could finish, giving him a reassuring smile that she hoped would put him at ease. She nodded firmly, and Levi sighed, letting it go. She turned and started walking, the click of her heels on the wet pavement echoing in the quiet street.
. . .
The rain hadn't stopped, making the air cool and fresh. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of rain on asphalt. Just a few more steps, and she'd be home. She was almost there when—
"Was that Levi?" Steven's voice emerged from the shadows, startling her. He stood under a tree, drenched, his usually calm expression unwavering despite the rainwater dripping from his hair and soaking his clothes.
"Oh my God! You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here? Why are you so drenched?" Maya exclaimed, her heart pounding from the surprise.
"I asked you first, Maya," Steven replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read her mind.
"Yes, Mr. Thompson dropped me off," she answered, still trying to catch her breath.
"Thank God," Steven muttered, more to himself than to her. Maya raised an eyebrow, curiosity mixing with concern.
"Now tell me, what are you doing here, all drenched?" she asked, her voice softer now.
"Nothing. Let's go home," Steven said, brushing past her, his wet clothes clinging to him, making his buffed body looking even more mascular.
"Don't tell me you were waiting for me?" Maya teased, trying to lighten the mood, wiggling her brows in that way she knew he found annoying.
"Jeez, why would I?" Steven shot back, quickening his pace. He sneezed loudly, and Maya's playful expression turned to one of concern.
"You caught a cold," she noted, catching up to him, her voice tinged with worry.
Steven didn't reply, just kept walking, his shoulders hunched against the chill. They reached the entrance of their building, and Maya fumbled with her keys, glancing at Steven who was shivering slightly.
Flashback:
Earlier that evening, Steven had been out with Dylan and Martin. They'd had dinner and a few drinks, losing track of time in their usual banter. It was near Steven's apartment when the rain started at 10:35, a sudden downpour that caught them off guard. Steven's car was out of gas, so he hadn't driven. As the rain intensified, his thoughts turned to Maya. He'd tried calling her but got no answer, which only made him worry more. By the time he got back to the apartment and found it empty, he was already soaked. He grabbed his keys and headed back out, standing in front of their building for a few moments before deciding to wait for her at the stop. Even though he got jealous of Levi, he trusted him, which was why his tension eased when he heard Levi's name from Maya's lips.
Flashback Ends.
Steven entered their apartment, sneezing again. Maya's worry deepened at the sight of his flushed cheeks. He looked miserable, and her heart ached for him.
"Steven, take a shower. The couch will get wet," she said gently but firmly. He sat there for a moment, as if gathering the energy, before dragging himself to his room. Maya had already showered and made dinner, which was rare since Steven usually ate out or ordered in. But tonight, she had felt a strange urge to cook for him, sensing something was off.
She knocked on his door softly. "Steven, I made some dinner. Have some before you go to sleep. I'll leave it on the table."
There was no response. Assuming he was in the washroom, she placed the plate on the table and went to bed, her mind still lingering on the image of Steven, drenched and sneezing, waiting for her in the rain.
. . .
Time had a funny way of slipping through her fingers tonight. Maya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, sleep eluding her. She checked her phone again—2:15 AM. With a frustrated sigh, she decided to get up. The dinner she had painstakingly prepared hours ago was still sitting on the table, untouched. Her stomach twisted with worry.
Determined, she walked over to Steven's door and knocked, a bit louder this time. Silence. She tried calling his phone again, but it went straight to voicemail. He must have his phone on silent mode. Anxiety gnawed at her. What if something was wrong? She couldn't just stand there. Her balcony, which conveniently adjoined Steven's room, seemed like her best bet.
"Steven! Steven!" she called out, banging on the glass door with urgency.
Still no response.
"Steven!" she shouted, louder this time, her voice laced with worry and frustration.
Just as she was about to give up, she heard a faint creak. She turned and saw Steven standing in the doorway, looking half-asleep and very much half-naked. He was wearing just three-quarter pants that showed off his broad shoulders and chiseled abs. Maya felt her face flush and quickly covered her eyes with her hands.
"Steven, why are you naked?" she blurted out, her voice a mix of embarrassment and concern.
Steven's face softened with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Did you give me a chance to put something on? I thought you'd wake the entire building if I didn't open the door. And for the record, I'm not naked; I'm wearing shorts. Stop exaggerating."
Maya lowered her hands slightly, peeking through her fingers. "Why didn't you answer your door? I was worried sick!"
Steven's voice softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. "I didn't hear you. I wasn't feeling well."
Her worry spiked. She stepped closer, peering up at him. "You don't look well. Your voice... it's shaky." She tiptoed, trying to get a better look at him, their faces suddenly too close for comfort. Steven's eyes widened, a blush creeping across his cheeks. He looked away, avoiding her gaze.
Maya furrowed her brows, her hands reaching to cup his face, making him to look at her. "Steven, what's going on? Let me see." Her voice was soft but insistent. "Lean down a little, will you?"
With a reluctant sigh, Steven leaned down. She touched his forehead, her fingers cool against his burning skin. "Oh God! You're burning up!" she whispered.
"Am I?" His voice was barely audible.
"Just get back inside. I'll get you some medicine." Maya pushed him gently but firmly back into his room, her worry fueling her actions. She rummaged through his medicine cabinet, finding a bottle of fever reducers. Grabbing a cold washcloth, she returned to his side, setting the dinner she had prepared earlier on his bedside table.
"You should eat something before taking the medicine," she insisted, handing him the bowl.
Steven shook his head weakly. "I already had dinner."
"You did? I made some for you earlier," Maya said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "Alright, since you've eaten already, here." She handed him the medicine and a glass of water.
"Actually, I'm getting hungry all over again. Can I have some of the dinner you made?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Of course." Maya smiled back, her heart warming at his attempt to lighten the mood. She handed him the bowl again.
"Ow, it's hot," Steven said, wincing slightly.
"Of course it's hot. I put it in the microwave; it was cold," Maya retorted, pouting. She noticed his hands shaking as he struggled with the chopsticks. "Are you that cold?" she asked, concern deepening.
"I'm okay. Don't worry," Steven replied, but his trembling hands betrayed him.
"Give me that," Maya said, taking the bowl from him. "I cannot believe I'm going to feed you." She sighed dramatically, but her eyes were soft.
"Well, I didn't ask you to," Steven teased, his smile weak but genuine.
"Yes, yes. Don't talk now." Maya started blowing on the food to cool it down, her focus entirely on making sure it was just right. Steven watched her, a mix of amusement and tenderness in his gaze.
As she fed him, Steven tried to protest, "I don't need the washcloth. I've taken the medicine already. I'll be fine."
"You talk too much, Steven," Maya replied, gently placing the cold washcloth on his forehead.
"Look at you, bossing your boss around," Steven retorted, a hint of a smirk on his lips.
"You're not the boss at home, Steven," Maya shot back, rolling her eyes.
"Boss at home? So you think you're the boss here?" Steven's tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper. "Why do you sound like a wife all of a sudden?"
Maya scoffed, the comment catching her off guard. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing. You'd make a perfect wife," Steven said, his voice softening.
Maya paused, her hand holding the washcloth mid-air. "I can't even be a good girlfriend. What do you mean by wife?"
Steven didn't respond immediately. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he broke it, his voice barely a whisper. "You're so pure, Maya. That's why you never see through anything."
Maya flinched at his words, tears welling up in her eyes. "You're right. I can never see through," she said, her voice cracking.
"Don't cry again," Steven murmured, his eyes still closed. Maya turned away, wiping her tears hastily.
"I'm not crying," she insisted, but her sniffles gave her away.
"Why are you all sniffly then?" Steven asked, his eyes still shut.
Maya didn't answer, instead focusing on placing the washcloth on his forehead again. Steven's hand reached for hers, and she flinched at the contact. He placed her hand on his chest, over his heart.
"Are you flirting with me?" Maya asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.
"I am. Yes," Steven replied simply.
"Hmph." Maya tried to pull her hand away, but Steven held it firmly.
"Don't. Let's stay like this for a moment," he said, his voice softer now.
"Steven, look, I'm not ready to accept..." Maya started, but Steven interrupted her.
"Did I say anything?" he asked, his tone gentle but firm.
"Sorry, but I feel like... you... I'm sorry... I don't really want to judge you," Maya stammered, her emotions in turmoil.
"Don't say it now, even if you're right. I will wait for you, and I mean it," Steven said, his eyes finally opening to meet hers.
"Is this a confession?" Maya asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Steven yawned, exhaustion evident in his every movement. "I can't keep my eyes open. Maya, you should go to sleep. I'll be okay."
"See? That's you! Always trying to avoid questions!" Maya huffed, her frustration bubbling over.
"Oh, did you say anything?" Steven asked, his voice tinged with teasing.
"Urgh. Sleep now, will you!" Maya commanded, her tone exasperated but affectionate.
Steven smiled, his eyes closing again. "Goodnight, Maya," he murmured.