A few weeks had passed since Noah moved into Oliver's mansion, and their bond had only grown stronger. For the first time, Oliver didn't feel the overwhelming loneliness that used to fill the giant, empty house. Noah's presence made it feel like a home—filled with laughter, light banter, and the comfort of having someone around. Yet, amidst the closeness, Oliver's emotions had begun to shift.
Lately, Oliver couldn't help but find himself stealing glances at Noah. It was becoming a regular thing. Whether Noah was lounging on the couch or making coffee in the kitchen, Oliver's eyes would drift toward him, his heart pounding a little harder each time. But every time Noah caught him staring, Oliver would quickly look away, his face flushing with embarrassment.
One evening, as they sat together in the living room, something changed. The atmosphere was unusually still. The soft glow from the table lamp cast long shadows, and the silence was filled only with the quiet hum of the night outside. Oliver was sitting on the far end of the couch, sketchbook in hand, attempting to draw something, but his mind was too distracted by Noah, who sat across from him, casually scrolling through his phone.
Out of nowhere, Noah looked up, catching Oliver's eye. A playful smirk spread across his face. "Caught you staring again," he teased, his voice low.
Oliver's heart leapt into his throat, his face heating up. "I-I wasn't staring," he stammered, his voice faltering.
But before Oliver could react further, Noah stood up and walked over, sitting down much closer than usual—so close that their knees almost touched. The sudden proximity made Oliver's heart race uncontrollably, the warmth from Noah's presence making his palms sweaty.
"Are you sure about that?" Noah whispered, leaning in, his face only inches from Oliver's. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and the teasing grin on his lips sent a shiver down Oliver's spine.
Oliver's breath hitched, his mind going blank. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and his heart was pounding so loudly he swore Noah could hear it. He wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a nervous laugh. Noah reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Oliver's forehead, his touch lingering a little too long.
For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. Oliver's pulse quickened, and the air between them felt charged with something more than just casual teasing. His chest tightened, his feelings bubbling to the surface, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.
Noah, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having, chuckled and pulled back, the moment breaking as easily as it had come. "You're too easy to tease, you know that?" he said, laughing softly.
Oliver forced a smile, trying to regain his composure, but inside, his heart was still racing. That brief closeness, the look in Noah's eyes, it had felt too real—too much like what he had been hoping for. But as Noah stood up and moved back to his usual spot, it became clear that, to him, it had just been another playful moment.
Noah didn't feel the same way—at least not yet. And that stung. Every playful comment, every innocent tease, made Oliver's heart swell with hope, only for it to be crushed when Noah remained oblivious to his feelings.
Yet, despite the frustration, Oliver couldn't give up. He wasn't ready to let go of the idea that maybe, just maybe, Noah might one day see him the way he saw Noah. Until then, he was willing to endure the teasing, the uncertainty—because even if Noah didn't feel the same way yet, Oliver was determined to be patient. For now, he would cherish the moments they had together, no matter how bittersweet.