Late

Morning light crept through the curtain to the room; Selene stirred first.

Her eyes opened to the slow rhythm of Lewie’s breathing beside her, but the sunlight blinded her for some minutes. For a moment, she didn’t move, afraid she might wake up from this imagination.

Reality crashed into her; the burning, passionate kisses, the battle of tongues looking for dominance, had happened between her and Lewie.

Her breath changed as the memory rushed back to her. His lips, the weight of his hands on her waist, the way her heart had skipped with every kiss they shared..

She sat up, suddenly too aware of everything: her heartbeat, her messy hair.

Lewie let out a soft groan as he turned beside her.

Lewie blinked. “Morning…”

“Morning.” Selene turned with a not-too-bright smile on her face.

Silence occupied the room again, and the air was heavy and uncomfortable.

Lewie rubbed the back of his neck, not looking in her direction, even though he could feel her gaze on him. “About last night…”

“Don’t,” Selene quickly injected, her voice almost like a whisper. “Let’s just… pretend, like nothing happened, the kisses never happened between us”

His jaw tightened. “Are you sure? Is that what you want?” His tone is uncertain and low.

“I didn’t mean—” she paused, biting her lower lip. “I just… let act like nothing happened”

Lewie looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he simply nodded. “Right. Pretend.”

She got off the bed and walked away quietly, leaving no trace.

The awkward tension followed them downstairs. Even Uncle Nuel noticed the unusual quietness between them during breakfast, his eyes kept gazing at Selene’s flushed face to Lewie’s silent brooding.

Leon had noticed that Selene didn't sleep in her room last night when he went to check up on her this morning, but he said nothing. With the unspeakable tension between the two, he knew that something transpired between them last night.

He just sat with his eyes on Selene while clenching his fork a little harder.

Later that afternoon, Selene was in the kitchen, making plantain piazza. She wasn't hungry, but she wanted to keep her thoughts in place cause her thoughts would stop spinning.

Why did I say that? He was just trying to understand…

“Whatever you think you are making has lost its colours,” Leon snapped while pointing at the pan. “It’s black. Were you even paying attention?”

“I—”

“ I think you should focus more on other house chores; cooking is never your thing. Don't force it.”. He carried the pan up, letting some of the pan's content pour away. “The same way you always lost on thought in the kitchen, this food has lost its nutrients. You’re not the only one who eats in this house, Selene. If you want to mess around with food, you can always go grocery shopping with your money”

His voice was too sharp. Too loud. She flinched, stepping back, her fingers curling into fists at her side.

“ I’m sorry,” she muttered, facing downward.

“That doesn’t fix burnt food, does it?” he shot back.

“If you are a little bit polite, with your words, would the whole world come crashing down on you?” she snapped back, her voice breaking in between, not from fear but from anger.

That was the first time she talked back to Leon. No matter how loud and impolite he sounds, she has never talked back to him.

They stared at each other. There was a look in her eyes that Leon had never seen before. Anger. Unbothered.

He backed off, his face and shoulder low as guilt swallowed up his anger.

Selene walked away without saying another word.

Upstairs in his room, Leon paced. He hated how he’d reacted. He hated the look Selene had given him even more.

“With every fibre in her, she looked at me with disgust..…”

He flopped onto the bed and groaned into a pillow, before grabbing his phone and typing into the search bar: “How to apologise to a girl you hurt?”

He watched a few videos, scoffed at the advice, and then found one with a guy holding flowers and rehearsing in front of a mirror. Leon rolled his eyes, but minutes later, he stood in front of his mirror doing the same thing.

“I’m sorry,” he said with no emotion. “No, too formal; this doesn't sound real. Selene, I didn’t mean to yell. Can you forgive me? I just—ugh.”

He sighed, then tried again. And again. And again.

With every attempt, he was getting good at begging for forgiveness.

Three hours later, his pride was bruised, but he had perfected his plan.

“Time to fix this.”

He walked out of his room with newfound determination. But as he descended the stairs, his steps slowed down.

Voices. Laughter.

He reached the bottom and froze.

In the hallway, Selene stood with Lewie, both laughing and smiling. She reached out to steady herself on his shoulder, and Lewie, smiling in a way Leon hadn’t seen in ages, his hands wrapped around her back.

They were hugging.

This wasn't a friendly hug. This is different from a casual hug. It looks more intimate; it doesn't just look like this was an intimate hug.

Leon held onto the staircase very tightly; he wanted to believe he was seeing things, but reality stood in front of him.

Selene pulled back, but her hands still held his shoulder tightly. She took a grain of hair that was blocking her eyes to the back of her ear.

Lewie whispered something to Selene's ear. Leon couldn’t hear it, but it made her face red from blush.

He turned slowly and walked away before any of them could notice him.

And as he climbed the stairs, fists clenched and eyes burning, one thought repeated like a mantra:

Didn’t even know if he could.

He walked back up the stairs, slower than before.

At the top, he stopped. He punched his fist on the wall.

One thought kept running over and over.

"You’re too late.”