Jarad's temporary vacation went better than he expected.
Rather than spending it alone, he met up with his sister at least four times a week. He got to explore life outside the orphanage, discovering a few favorite spots and scenes. He even found out a few new facts about himself.
He liked cats. How could he not? They were both cute and feisty.
Croissants were one of his favorite pastries - a trait he seemed to share with Evie.
He was surprisingly good at baking, having baked a few more times to get Frieda to shut up.
He was terrible at knitting. He was never trying that again.
At the moment, Jarad was finishing up his workout routine in one of the gym facilities that the Orphanage provided, executing ten more reps on the pull-up bar before stopping.
After removing his wrist weights, he sat on the bench, allowing his muscles to relax for a minute or two. He brought out his water bottle, taking big sips and sighing in relief as the cool liquid hit his throat. For a moment, he just sat there with his eyes closed, a few thoughts running through his mind.
Should he see Evie today?
He did promise he would take her out for ice cream.
Oh! Maybe he could take her to that new ice cream shop he saw last week. What was it called again ? Ice Palace? Ice-
Jarad quickly stood up, turning just in time to palm a strike at the person's chest. The force sent the intruder stumbling back, his breath leaving him in a sharp wheeze as he crumpled to the ground, one hand clutching his chest.
Jarad, unbothered, casually took a sip from his water bottle, watching as the figure sputtered and coughed violently on the floor.
This went on for an awkward minute. The coughing sounded increasingly dramatic, grating on Jarad's nerves.
"Are you done?" Jarad raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
The figure—a tall Black male with deep brown skin and neatly styled twists—held up a single finger, signaling for a moment. His dark blue eyes watered slightly from the earlier impact. He let out one last exaggerated gasp before flopping back onto the floor, only to stand moments later with a wide grin on his face.
"Alright, I'm done," the man said, brushing imaginary dust from his black turtleneck and matching slacks. The only pop of color on him was a shark tooth choker glinting faintly in the light.
"Hey, Jar!" he greeted brightly, ignoring the scowl aimed in his direction.
"That's not my name," Jarad said flatly, already knowing where this conversation was headed.
"How about Jerry?"
"No."
"Jay?"
"Get out."
"Jojo?"
Jarad's right eye twitched. The wide grin on the other man's face grew even more infuriating. Exhaling sharply, Jarad turned away and began packing his things into his duffel bag. "Why are you here, Leon?"
Leon's grin only widened. "What? Can't I drop by to check on my buddy?"
"We're not buddies," Jarad shot back without missing a beat. "What do you really want?"
Leon sighed, dramatically clutching his chest. "You're no fun. Frieda sent me to ask if you're up for a movie night."
"..."
"She's got croissants."
"I'll be there."
Leon's laugh was loud and easy as he followed Jarad to the lockers. "You know, for a guy with a deadly rep, it's hilarious how easily bribed you are by pastries—"
He quickly cut himself off when Jarad shot him a glare sharp enough to make even the bravest man pause. "Never mind," Leon muttered, chuckling awkwardly. "Anyway, she wanted you to pick the genre for tonight. Thriller or horror?"
"Horror." Jarad grabbed a towel from his locker and turned to face Leon. "Now stop following me. Or are you planning to join me in the shower, too?"
Leon smirked mischievously. "Well, since you offered—"
Jarad slammed the bathroom door in his face before he could finish, muffling Leon's laughter on the other side.
Jarad let out a heavy breath, trying to calm the annoyance bubbling in his chest. The guy outside was relentless, always testing his patience. He quickly turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over him, soothing his tense muscles and, with it, his irritation.
Fifteen minutes later, he was out, fully dressed in a simple black hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. Slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he stepped out of the gym's locker room, only to find Leon still waiting for him.
Leon leaned casually against the wall, his dark skin catching the soft glow of the overhead lights. His neatly styled twists were fresh, and his signature shark tooth choker glinted faintly as he smirked.
"Stalking me now?" Jarad asked dryly.
"Just making sure my buddy doesn't run off before movie night," Leon replied with an easy grin, falling into step beside him.
"I said, we're not buddies."
"You keep saying that, and yet here we are, walking together like best friends."
Jarad groaned inwardly. "Aren't you supposed to have, I don't know, better things to do?"
"Frieda said this was my job for today," Leon replied cheerfully. "And honestly, I'm enjoying it. You're such a riot to mess with."
Jarad shot him a sidelong glare but kept walking.
As they passed through the orphanage's courtyard, Jarad's attention drifted for a moment. He caught sight of a stray cat lazily sunbathing on a bench, its fluffy white tail twitching slightly. He stopped mid-stride, his usual guarded expression softening.
Leon noticed, his smirk widening. "Don't tell me you're into cats now."
Jarad ignored him, stepping closer to the bench. The cat lifted its head, meeting his gaze with unbothered golden eyes. Slowly, Jarad crouched, holding out a hand. The cat sniffed it, then rubbed its head against his palm.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?" Leon said, though his tone lacked malice.
Jarad scratched behind the cat's ears, his voice calm. "You talk too much."
Leon chuckled, crossing his arms. "You know, you're almost likable when you're not scowling."
Jarad stood up, brushing cat fur off his hoodie. "You're almost tolerable when you're quiet."
Before Leon could retort, Jarad started walking again. This time, Leon stayed silent—at least for a few seconds.
"So, about tonight," Leon began, catching up. "Do you want to do a double feature? Maybe throw in some popcorn, dim the lights for that real theater vibe—"
"You're lucky I like croissants," Jarad muttered, cutting him off.
Leon grinned. "Frieda knew that'd work. She's got a whole batch waiting. Freshly baked."
Jarad didn't reply, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as they reached the dormitory entrance.
As Jarad and Leon entered the dormitory, the warm, buttery scent of freshly baked croissants wafted through the air. From down the hall came the familiar hum of Frieda's voice, along with the occasional clatter of baking trays.
"Smells like heaven," Leon said, his deep voice carrying an easy cheer. His dark skin gleamed faintly under the lights, and his short twists were neatly styled. He looked like someone who belonged in a fashion catalog, not in the middle of an orphanage dormitory.
Jarad shot him a look. "Are you always this loud?"
Leon grinned. "Only when I'm around you, buddy."
The two stepped into the common room, where Frieda was pulling a tray of croissants from the oven. Her box braids, tied into a high bun, swayed slightly as she turned to greet them. Her warm brown eyes lit up when she saw Jarad.
"Well, well, the elusive Jarad graces us with his presence," she teased. "And you," she pointed at Leon, "you didn't drive him crazy, did you?"
Leon placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. "Me? Never."
Frieda rolled her eyes, her gold hoop earrings catching the light. "Sure. Anyway, I made extra croissants just in case. Help yourselves before we start."
Jarad didn't hesitate, grabbing a still-warm croissant and tearing off a piece, he popped it into his mouth, savoring the flaky texture. "Good as always," he said simply.
Frieda smirked. "I know. What's the pick for tonight? Thriller or horror?"
"Horror," Jarad replied, already reaching for another croissant.
"Nice," Frieda said, snapping her fingers. "I've got the perfect lineup. Leon, go set up the projector."
"Why me?" Leon asked, even as he ambled toward the lounge with a slight swagger.
"Because I said so," Frieda called after him, her tone playful.
When Leon disappeared, Frieda leaned against the counter, folding her arms. "You've been loosening up lately," she said, her voice softer now. "I'm glad."
Jarad glanced at her, unsure how to respond. He shrugged, chewing on another bite. "Just trying things."
"Good," Frieda said with a small smile. "You should. Life's about more than just surviving, you know."
Her words hung in the air, a quiet encouragement Jarad didn't know he needed.
"It's also nice to see your talking about something else other than murder" Jarad replied with a small smirk on his dark skinned face
"Come on," she said, grabbing her own croissant while shaking her head. "Let's see if Leon's managed to break the projector yet."
Jarad followed her into the lounge, where Leon was sprawled on the couch, already tossing popcorn into his mouth. The lights were dimmed, and the opening credits of a horror movie flickered on the screen.
As Jarad settled into his seat, croissant in hand, he let the comfort of the moment sink in. For a few hours, the shadows of his past could wait. Tonight, it was just croissants, bad jokes, and good company.