CHAPTER 7 -Used To Having Him Around

/LORCAN/

The apartment had been annoyingly quiet in the past few days.

For the past week, I had been forced to adapt to a constant, irritatingly bright presence. There was always the sound of footsteps, the quiet humming from the kitchen, or the clumsy thud of a shoulder hitting a doorframe.

Now, because of Theo’s new job, the apartment was completely silent most of the times.

It was exactly what I had asked for—or so I thought. It was the entire reason I had rented this flat in the first place, simply to have my peace and quiet.

Except, it didn't feel right. It felt weirdly hollow without his presence.

I sat at my desk in my bedroom, staring at a spreadsheet on my laptop. Usually, I could lose myself in work for hours without a single distraction, but I caught my eyes occasionally drifting towards the door.

There was no soft clatter of plates. No scent of whatever vanilla-heavy perfume he used.

After hours had passed, I heard the front door creak open—he was back which had me relaxing a bit even though he was oddly quiet.

“Focus, Lorcan,” I groaned, trying to ignore everything.

Just like that, a few more hours rolled by and it was 12:15 AM.

Losing my patience with the continued lack of focus, I pushed my chair back and stood up. My throat was dry, and I needed a glass of water.

When I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, I noticed the living room light was still on.

“If he's still awake, why is he being so uncharacteristically quiet?” I muttered, mildly irritated.

I walked toward the kitchen island, intending to grab a glass, but stopped when I saw a figure slumped over the counter.

Theo was fast asleep. His head was resting on his folded arms, his blonde curls spilling over his forehead in a total mess. His laptop was still open next to him, the screen illuminating his face with a dull blue light. It looked like he was logged into some sort of employee training portal for PixelPulse Studio.

He was still wearing his shirt from work, though the collar was unbuttoned and his tie was thrown carelessly onto the barstool next to him.

My first instinct was to ignore him. Rule number one was clear—zero interaction. If he wanted to ruin his spine by sleeping on a hard counter, that was his business.

I turned away and opened the refrigerator to get my water. I hadn't eaten dinner due to a string of back-to-back virtual board meetings with directors who couldn't agree on a budget, and my stomach was empty. I scanned the shelves for a piece of fruit or something quick, but nothing caught my eye.

When I closed the fridge door, I noticed a covered ceramic dish sitting on the counter next to the stovetop. Next to it was a familiar neon yellow sticky note.

I picked it up.

‘Know you're busy! Don't skip dinner. - Theo.’

I looked from the note to the covered dish, then over to the sleeping kid. He was working twelve-hour shifts, stumbling into the apartment looking like a walking corpse, and he still took the time to cook an extra portion and leave a ridiculous note.

“Was he an idiot?” I muttered, raising a brow. I could hardly understand him.

I let out a quiet sigh, folding the yellow piece of paper and shoving it into my sweatpants pocket.

I lifted the lid of the dish. It was chicken stir-fry and rice, still slightly warm. I pulled a fork from the drawer and ate it standing up by the counter. It was good. Better than the expensive catered meals my assistant usually ordered for me at the main office.

Once I finished, I washed the plate and dried it, placing it back in the cabinet.

I walked over to the island and stood over Theo. He hadn't moved an inch since I came, completely knocked out. Was this how he looked when he was asleep? I never even thought he was a deep sleeper.

‘I feel like poking his face,’ I thought for a second.

I reached over to the sofa, grabbing the dark blanket I usually kept there, intending to just drape it over his shoulders and call it a night. But as I leaned down, I looked at the awkward angle of his neck against the wooden counter. If he stayed like that for another four hours, he wouldn't be able to turn his head tomorrow, let alone walk into his new job.

I dropped the blanket onto the barstool.

"Such a nuisance even when he's asleep," I muttered under my breath.

I leaned down, sliding one arm under his knees and the other behind his back. I braced myself to lift him, expecting him to be heavy given his height, but he was surprisingly light. His body was lean and toned, but he felt like nothing in my arms.

As I lifted him off the barstool, Theo let out a soft, sleepy sigh. He shifted slightly, his head rolling against my shoulder, his face burying into the crook of my neck.

I froze as a very faint scent hit my nose. It was extremely subtle—like fresh rain and sweet cream.

“You're oddly comfortable in my arms, someone might think I signed up to be your bed,” I groaned as I looked down at him for a moment. I had to give whatever perfume he was using credit for lasting this long.

I carried him down the short hallway and pushed his bedroom door open with my foot. The room was just as minimalist as mine, save for a few boxes of books stacked in the corner. I walked over to the bed, carefully lowering him onto the mattress.

Theo mumbled something incoherent, turning onto his side and curling into a ball the moment his body hit the sheets. I reached down, pulled the thick duvet over his shoulders, and stepped back.

I stood there in the dark for a quiet second, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“What am I doing?” I rubbed my temple. I've been acting out of character lately and it's stressing me out.

I turned around, walking out of his room and closing the door softly behind me. I went back to the kitchen, shut down his laptop, and turned off the living room lights.

As I walked back to my own room, my hand brushed against the sticky note in my pocket.

“I should throw it out,” I muttered quietly to myself without bothering to take it out of my pocket.