The room was dim, illuminated only by the faint light of the moon filtering through Layla's curtains. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor—a testament to the urgency of the last few hours. Layla lay on her side, her bare shoulder brushing against Aaron's chest. Their breathing was finally slowing, matching the rhythm of the quiet night outside.
"Wow," Aaron said, breaking the silence. His voice was low, rough, but tinged with a touch of amusement. "Miss two weeks, and you forget how to pace yourself."
Layla turned her head to glare at him, though the faint smirk on her lips betrayed her. "Speak for yourself, soccer boy. You're the one who practically tackled me the moment you walked in."
Aaron chuckled, resting his arm over his forehead. "What can I say? I missed you."
The confession, as casual as it sounded, made Layla's chest tighten. She bit her lip, unwilling to let him see how much those words affected her. Instead, she rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows.
"Are you staying over?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
Aaron glanced at her, his eyes tracing the curve of her shoulder before settling on her face. "Do you want me to?"
Layla shrugged, pretending to think it over. "I guess it wouldn't hurt. But if you snore, you're getting kicked out."
"I don't snore," Aaron said, mock-offended.
"You're a soccer player," Layla retorted. "Bet you snore like a chainsaw."
Aaron reached out, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at her. She ducked, laughing, and flopped back onto the bed. The sound of their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn't demand to be filled.
After a while, Aaron shifted, turning on his side to face her. His hand brushed against hers, and she let their fingers tangle together.
"Are you going to Annie's place tomorrow?" he asked suddenly.
Layla glanced at him, surprised by the question. "Yeah. Why?"
"Just wondering," Aaron said, his voice softer now. "Day after tomorrow's Christmas. Figured you'd be doing the usual."
Layla nodded. "Annie's family is kinda my family now. You?"
"Same old," Aaron replied. "Except this year, my dad's insisting we do matching pajamas. Kill me now."
Layla laughed, imagining Aaron in some cheesy holiday print. "Please tell me there'll be pictures."
"Not a chance," he said with a groan. Then, as if remembering something, he reached over to the pile of his clothes on the floor and pulled out his bag. "I got you something, by the way."
Layla frowned, sitting up slightly. "What? Why?"
"It's Christmas," Aaron said simply, digging through his bag. "And I wanted to."
Her heart thudded in her chest as she watched him pull out a small box. He handed it to her, his expression unreadable.
"Open it," he said, leaning back against the headboard.
Layla hesitated for a moment before carefully lifting the lid. Inside was a delicate silver chain with a pendant—a heart surrounded by wings. The detail was stunning, the wings appearing almost alive in the moonlight.
"Aaron..." she murmured, her voice trailing off.
"The wings stand for strength," he explained, his voice quiet but steady. "Like the rebel we all know and love. But the heart... it's there to remind you that there's more to you than that. Something deeper."
Layla swallowed hard, her fingers brushing over the pendant. For a moment, she couldn't find the words. Finally, she managed a soft, "Thank you."
Aaron smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're welcome."
Layla hesitated, then reached toward the nightstand, where she'd stashed a small box earlier. "I... I got something for you, too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aaron's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yeah?"
"Don't make it a big deal," she muttered, shoving the box into his hands.
He chuckled, unwrapping it carefully. Inside was a simple silver bracelet adorned with two charms—a four-leaf clover and an evil eye.
"For good luck," Layla explained, looking anywhere but at him. "You can wear it... or not. Whatever."
Aaron was silent for a moment, his fingers tracing the bracelet. "My ex gave me a bracelet once," he said finally, his voice distant.
Layla's stomach tightened. "Oh."
"For good luck," Aaron continued. "It broke. Just like... us." His words hung heavy in the air, filling the space between them.
Layla wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. She bit her lip, unsure if she should apologize or change the subject.
After a long pause, Aaron looked up at her. "Thanks, Layla." He slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, adjusting it to fit. "I'll wear it."
"You don't have to—" she began, but he cut her off.
"I want to," he said firmly, meeting her eyes.
Her breath caught, and for a moment, all she could do was nod.
Aaron leaned back, his arm brushing against hers. "You're full of surprises, you know that?"
"Good ones, I hope," she said, her voice lighter now.
Aaron smirked. "The best ones."
Layla rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was warm, filled with the quiet comfort of two people who didn't need to fill the spaces between them.
Aaron eventually lay down fully, pulling Layla close. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Thanks for tonight," she murmured, her words barely audible.
Aaron pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Anytime, Layla. Anytime."