That night, everything felt different.
Xander and I had finally found a groove again. After weeks of careful adjustments—learning to respect each other's boundaries, giving space when needed, and savoring the moments we did spend together—the tension that had built between us had started to dissolve. Instead of feeling heavy, the air between us felt lighter, easier, but still charged in a way that felt… special.
After dinner, we settled on the couch with a bottle of wine, the apartment quiet except for the soft hum of music playing in the background. I curled up in my corner of the couch, and Xander sprawled out on his side, one arm stretched along the backrest. There wasn't much talking at first—just the quiet, comfortable sounds of glasses clinking and the occasional sigh as we both let the day's stress melt away.
"You know," I said after a while, staring down into my wine glass, "I think this is the calmest we've been in weeks."
Xander let out a soft laugh, tilting his head to look at me. "That's because we're not arguing about whose turn it is to clean the bathroom or something."
I nudged his leg with my foot, grinning. "Or who left the fridge open. Which, by the way, is still your fault most of the time."
He raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Guilty as charged."
There was a beat of silence before he leaned forward slightly, his expression softening. "But seriously, I think we're doing okay now, aren't we?"
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah. I think we are. It's nice, not feeling like we're stepping on each other's toes all the time."
"And," he added, his voice light but sincere, "I'm glad we didn't let the rough patches get in the way. I'd hate to think of us giving up just because we needed to figure a few things out."
"Same," I murmured, my chest warming at his words.
For a while, we just sat there, sipping our wine and enjoying the quiet. It reminded me of why I'd been so sure about moving in together in the first place—because even in the silence, Xander felt like home.
Eventually, the conversation turned lighter. We reminisced about old memories, laughing over shared stories from our first road trip together, the time I'd accidentally left him stranded outside a grocery store with no keys, and the unforgettable night Béatrice had convinced us to try karaoke for the first time.
As the bottle of wine emptied, Xander glanced at me, his smile turning mischievous. "Remember that time I dared you to climb that tree at the park, and you ended up stuck halfway?"
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Don't remind me. I still have a scar on my knee from that!"
"You should've seen your face," he teased, leaning back into the couch. "I've never seen someone panic so much over five feet."
"It felt like twenty feet at the time," I shot back, laughing. "And you were the one who told me to do it!"
He shrugged, feigning innocence. "I didn't think you'd actually try it."
Our laughter died down, and I noticed the way his eyes lingered on me, softer now. "I'm glad you're here, Maya," he said quietly.
I blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. "I'm glad I'm here too," I said, my voice just as soft.
It wasn't a grand moment. There were no dramatic declarations, no sweeping gestures. But in that quiet exchange, I felt the kind of connection that didn't need words to explain.
As the night wound down, I stretched and let out a yawn, glancing at the clock. "It's late. We should probably head to bed."
Xander tilted his head, grinning. "You're not going to rearrange the living room again first?"
I rolled my eyes but laughed. "Not tonight. But don't tempt me."
We cleaned up the wine glasses together, trading lighthearted jabs about who had left more dishes in the sink that week, before retreating to our separate rooms. The apartment felt calm, settled, like it was finally ours in a way that felt right.
As I lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, I couldn't help but smile. The weeks of tension, the moments of frustration—they were all worth it. Because even when we got too much of each other, even when things got messy, we always found our way back. And that, I realized, was the part of us that mattered most.
4o