N O A H

Sarah's sitting beside me on the couch, her legs tucked under her, focused on the movie she picked. It's some sappy romance where the guy pours his heart out in front of a big crowd, and everyone claps.

I don't get the appeal, but I'm not about to tell her that. Instead, I steal glances at her reactions, the way her lips twitch when something funny happens or how her eyebrows pull together during the emotional parts.

The hero starts his dramatic speech about how he's nothing without the girl, and Sarah sighs softly.

"Unbelievable," I mutter under my breath.

She turns her head toward me, suspicious. "What?"

"Nothing. Just... does this stuff actually work on people?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She rolls her eyes. "Not everyone's as emotionally constipated as you, Noah."

I grin, leaning back into the couch. "Sure, keep telling yourself that."

She's about to reply when she suddenly gets up. "I need to clean the backyard."

I blink at her, confused. "What? Why now?"

"Because it's been bothering me, and I forgot to do it earlier," she says, already heading toward the door.

I groan, getting up too. "You're seriously choosing cleaning over finishing the movie?"

"Yes, Noah," she replies without looking back. "Not all of us can just sit around all day."

Before I can stop myself, I grab her wrist, gently but firm enough to stop her. "Can't it wait? Just sit down for once."

She turns to me, arching an eyebrow. "Why do you care so much?"

I don't have a good answer for that. I just... don't want her to leave. So, instead, I say, "Because I'm trying to be a decent person and let you relax for five minutes."

Sarah narrows her eyes, pulling her arm free. "You? Decent? That's a stretch."

She moves to walk away again, and I panic. Without thinking, I step in front of her, blocking her path. "Sarah, seriously. The backyard isn't going anywhere. Sit back down."

She glares up at me, her stubbornness in full force. "Noah, move."

I shake my head. "No."

She tries to push past me, and in the process, she stumbles on the edge of the rug. I reach out to steady her, but instead, she falls backward, pulling me down with her.

We land in a heap on the carpet, her laughter breaking the tension instantly. "Nice reflexes, genius," she says, giggling uncontrollably.

I scramble up, my face burning. "I didn't mean to-are you okay?"

She waves me off, still laughing as she sits up. "I'm fine."

I rub the back of my neck, muttering an awkward apology, but she doesn't seem mad. In fact, she's glowing, her cheeks flushed, her laughter infectious.

The sound of a kiss in the movie snaps my attention back to the TV. The characters are wrapped in some passionate, over-the-top embrace. I glance at Sarah, who's wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, and suddenly, my thoughts drift somewhere they shouldn't.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "You... look good when you laugh."

Her laughter fades as she looks up at me, surprised. "What?"

Crap. Why did I say that?

"I mean-you know-happy. You look... happy."

She tilts her head, her expression softening. "Thanks?"

My heart is racing, and I feel like an idiot. I rush to the couch and sit, grabbing a pillow and shove it onto my lap, hoping she doesn't notice my sudden discomfort. "Anyway," I mumble, trying to focus on the movie, "you're still not cleaning the backyard."

She smirks but doesn't argue, settling back onto the couch. For once, I'm thankful for the cheesy romance on the screen. It's easier to stare at that than deal with the mess I'm feeling right now.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out, expecting some random notification, but instead, it's a message from Leelo.

Leelo : Don't do anything stupid.

I frown, confused for a second. Then it hits me, the cameras. My eyes dart around the room, the invisible presence of the surveillance system suddenly looming over me.

Leelo must've been watching. Of course, he was.

I glance at Sarah, who's still focused on the movie, thankfully oblivious to my brief panic. I quickly type back.

Me : What the hell are you talking about?"

His reply is almost instant.

Leelo : You know what I mean. Don't make me come over.

I grit my teeth, glaring at my phone like it's his fault. How does he always manage to sound both concerned and infuriating at the same time?

Sarah looks over, noticing my expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, slipping the phone back into my pocket.

But now, I can't relax. I can feel Leelo's watchful eyes through the cameras, judging every move I make. It's not like I'm doing anything wrong, but still, the idea of being monitored while I'm trying to... exist is enough to make my skin crawl.

I get up abruptly, pretending to stretch. "Be right back," I mumble, heading toward the small control panel tucked away near the stairwell.

The cameras blink at me, their little lights like accusatory stares. I press a few buttons, and the lights go out, leaving the house blissfully unwatched.

Just as I'm about to walk away, my phone buzzes again.

Leelo : Did you just turn off the cameras?

I smirk, typing back:

Me : Yeah. Don't worry, it's not for anything 'stupid.' Mind your own business.

His reply takes a little longer this time.

Leelo : If I find out you're messing up, I'm coming over.

I laugh softly to myself, shaking my head.

Me : Chill, Leelo. I'm fine. Go spy on someone else.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head back to the living room, feeling a strange sense of relief. It's just me and Sarah now, no invisible audience.

She glances at me as I sit down again. "Everything okay?"

"Perfect," I say with a grin, trying to keep it casual.

She narrows her eyes at me, suspicious, but she doesn't push. Instead, she shifts her attention back to the movie, and I do the same, though my thoughts are far from the cheesy dialogue on the screen.

For once, the house feels quiet, not just in sound but in presence. No Leelo watching, no interruptions. Just the two of us. And I can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this is the way it's supposed to be.

As the movie continues, I barely register the plot. Some romantic drama with longing stares and slow motion kisses, Sarah's pick, obviously. She sits next to me, completely immersed, her head tilted slightly, her lips pressing together during the tense moments.

I glance at her, intending to make some sarcastic comment about the movie, but I freeze.

The memory crashes in, uninvited. Sarah, standing in the doorway of her room, clutching the towel around her. Her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. The way her skin glistened, the curve of her collarbones exposed.

I clear my throat, trying to shake the image, but it lingers like a forbidden thought I can't unsee. My palms feel damp against my jeans, and I lean back, hoping the distance will help.

Spoiler: it doesn't.

"Are you okay?" Sarah's voice pulls me out of my daze.

I glance at her, startled. "What?"

"You've been weirdly quiet." She raises an eyebrow, her expression half amused, half concerned.

"I'm fine," I say quickly, too quickly.

Her lips tug into a smirk. "You sure? You looked like you were having an existential crisis or something."

"Just... thinking," I mumble, focusing hard on the screen.

She shrugs and goes back to watching, but my mind doesn't. Instead, it drifts back to the way her towel barely reached mid-thigh, the curve of her-

Stop.

I shift uncomfortably, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. The movie's dialogue continues in the background, but I can't hear a word of it.

This is bad. So bad. I feel like a teenage boy who just discovered girls, and it's embarrassing.

"You're fidgeting a lot," Sarah says, turning to me again.

I curse under my breath. "I'm fine," I snap, harsher than intended.

She blinks, clearly taken aback. "Gosh, sorry for asking."

I run a hand through my hair, sighing. "I didn't mean it like that."

There's a stretch of silence between us, and I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She's back to watching the movie, but her arms are crossed now, her body slightly turned away from me.

Great. Now I feel like an idiot and a jerk.

The scene on the screen changes to a heated kiss between the two leads, and my stomach tightens involuntarily.

"I'm getting some water," I announce abruptly, standing up.

She doesn't even look at me. "Okay."

I walk to the kitchen, gripping the counter once I'm out of sight. My heartbeat pounds in my ears. This isn't normal. I can't keep thinking about her like this.

She's Sarah, my-well, my maid.

I splash some cold water on my face, trying to calm the storm inside me. But no amount of water can drown the memories or the heat that rises when I think of her.

When I return to the living room, Sarah is still glued to the screen. I sit down again, keeping as much distance as the couch allows.

"Did I miss anything?" I ask, desperate to act normal.

"Not really." Her tone is clipped, still annoyed from earlier.

I want to say something, apologize maybe, but the words stick in my throat. Instead, I sit there, painfully aware of her every movement, every breath.

This is going to be a long night.