S A R A H

The morning sun filters through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow on the garden. I'm not even sure how it started, but here we are, Noah and I, in the middle of an intense badminton match.

I can feel the cool breeze against my skin as I move, the racket in my hand like an extension of my arm.

I can't remember the last time I had fun like this, laughing and forgetting everything. It's a strange feeling to see Noah like this, relaxed and... playful. His usual tense demeanor is gone, replaced with a boyish grin that lights up his whole face.

Leelo walks into the garden, his mouth falling open when he sees us. He watches for a moment, bewildered, before walking up with a raised brow.

"Am I... seeing things?" he asks, clearly confused. "You two, playing together like best buddies?"

Noah smirks, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Yeah, I guess we found something we're both good at. We're starting over," he says, giving me a quick wink.

Leelo shakes his head, still looking like he's stepped into an alternate universe.

"Well, that's... unexpected. But hey, if you two are fine, I guess I can finally stop worrying. My work here is done." He claps Noah on the shoulder and gives me a quick thumbs-up before heading back to his car, shaking his head in disbelief.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Noah and I aren't at each other's throats for once.

We keep playing for a few more rounds until we're both too tired to continue. I'm panting, leaning on my knees for support, while Noah looks like he could go on for hours.

"Alright, I surrender," I laugh, dropping my racket. "You win."

He walks over, his chest rising and falling with each breath, drenched in sweat. "You put up a good fight," he says, his voice still playful.

Without warning, he pulls off his shirt, revealing his toned, sweat-slicked torso.

I swallow hard, my eyes betraying me as they travel over his muscles. The sunlight catches on the droplets of sweat trailing down his chest, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

He notices, of course, because why wouldn't he?

"Speechless, huh?" he chuckles, clearly enjoying the effect he has on me. There's a teasing glint in his eyes, but I can't seem to find a snappy comeback.

"Shut up," I mutter, turning on my heel and heading inside before he can see just how flustered I am.

Back in my room, I close the door behind me and lean against it, my heart still racing. God, what is happening to me? I shouldn't be reacting like this.

I strip off my clothes, still feeling the rush from our game. The cold shower is a welcome relief, washing away the sweat and the strange, lingering feeling from the garden.

As the water cascades over me, I can't help but replay the morning in my mind. How easy it was to be around him, how his laugh sounded so different from the usual sarcasm laced in his voice.

I allow myself to feel good. It's been so long since I've felt anything other than stress and confusion in this house. And maybe, just maybe, things are starting to change.

Noah might be showing a softer side, but I can't forget the way he's hurt me before. I need to keep my guard up, no matter how good it feels to let it down.

The warmth from the shower still lingers on my skin as I step out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. I run a hand through my wet hair, letting out a sigh.

Just as I'm about to get dressed, a sharp knock on the door startles me.

"Sarah, you in there?" Noah's voice filters through the door, muffled but unmistakable.

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. Damn it, I forgot to lock the door. I consider ignoring him, but something in his tone pulls me to the door.

Without thinking, I pull it open.

Noah's eyes go wide, and he takes an involuntary step back. "Fuck, Sarah!" he curses, running a hand through his hair as his gaze sweeps over me. His voice is rougher than usual, like he's trying to choke back something he shouldn't say.

My face heats up as the realization hits me. I'm still in towel. I panic, scrambling to close the door, but his hand shoots out, stopping it halfway. He pushes it open just enough to keep me from hiding behind it.

"Noah, what the hell?" I snap, trying to pull the towel tighter around my body.

He doesn't move, doesn't say a word. His eyes are locked on me, and there's something different in them, something that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Sorry, I... didn't expect..." he trails off, his gaze lingering on my exposed shoulders, the damp towel clinging to my curves. His voice drops to a whisper. "You look..."

He doesn't finish the sentence, but the way he's looking at me makes it clear enough. I should be angry, furious even, but instead, I feel a strange fluttering in my stomach. It's not anger.

It's... something else.

"Seriously, Noah, let go of the door," I say, my voice coming out weaker. I'm trying to sound annoyed, but I can't quite pull it off.

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he doesn't move. His eyes are dark, intense, like he's fighting some internal battle.

We're both just standing there, caught in a silent tug-of-war. My heart is racing, my breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. His hand is still on the door, his fingers just inches from mine.

"You should... probably get dressed," he finally says, his voice low and almost strained, like it took everything in him to get those words out.

"Yeah, no kidding," I mutter, trying to sound irritated, but my voice wavers. I take a step back, expecting him to let go, but he's still staring, like he's trying to memorize every detail.

I don't know what possesses me, but I don't slam the door in his face. Instead, I hold his gaze for a beat longer than I should, feeling a heat I haven't felt in a long time.

He blinks, like he's snapping out of a trance, and finally lets go of the door.

"I... I'm sorry," he says, almost too quickly, turning away. "I just came to... forget it."

Without another word, he walks down the hall, muttering curses under his breath. I stand there for a moment, my heart still pounding.

Shaking my head, I quickly close the door and lean against it, trying to steady my breathing. I'm not sure what's more confusing-Noah's reaction, or the way it made me feel.

I let out a shaky breath, pressing my hand to my chest. This can't be happening. Not with him. Not after everything. But no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I can't shake the way he looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

And the worst part?

I didn't hate it.