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Chapter 12
(Lisa's POV)
He kissed me.
And now he wasn't moving.
Neither was I.
His forehead still rested near mine, our breaths tangled in the space between. His hand hovered just close enough to feel the warmth of my skin, but not touching anymore. Like he didn't trust himself if he did.
"I shouldn't have," he whispered again.
Still, he didn't pull away.
Neither did I.
Something inside me was shifting, slowly, like a plate of earth tilting beneath the weight of something old and something new. I wasn't sure what this was between us—but it no longer felt like just proximity. Just Meena's brother. Just an accident.
Ethen pulled back, finally. Just enough to sit upright on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands over his face like he was trying to erase what just happened.
"I'm gonna get you more water," he muttered, voice rough.
I didn't stop him.
I needed the space too—if only to feel like I could breathe again. My heart was thudding in a disjointed rhythm, part confusion, part something I didn't want to name.
The moment the door clicked behind him, I reached for my phone.
A single new message blinked at me.
Meena:
Heyy I hope you're alive after day one lol don't overdo it stupid 🥲
Alsooo… I have news.
I'm pregnant 🤰🧸 don't freak out
My lips parted. I sat up a little straighter, the dizziness still lingering but fading fast.
Pregnant?
I reread the message again. And again. A soft smile tugged at the edge of my mouth—unexpected and real. She hadn't even told Ethen yet. And she told me first.
She trusted me that much.
I typed back quickly.
Me:
ARE YOU SERIOUS?
Meena, what the hell omg
I'm crying and I don't know if it's the fever or your fetus
Also I love you so much wtf I'm going to scream later
I hit send and locked the screen before Ethen returned.
He came back with water, avoiding my gaze. I drank slowly, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he placed the glass down, straightened the edge of the tray, adjusted the blanket even though it didn't need adjusting.
He was restless. Maybe regretting the kiss. Maybe not. I couldn't tell. And I didn't know what to say that wouldn't either make it worse—or make it real.
So I said nothing.
He didn't bring it up again.
Instead, he tucked the covers around me and said, "Try to sleep."
And I did.
Because for now, silence felt safer than answers.
—
The next morning, the light hit different.
Gentler. Warmer. Or maybe I was just alive again and no longer hallucinating entire kisses. Either way, I woke up tangled in Ethen's oversized shirt and unfamiliar bedsheets, alone.
I sat up slowly. The soreness was still there, but dull now. Manageable.
My phone buzzed.
Meena:
I told Aryan. He cried. And then made me eat 4 boiled eggs because apparently that's what pregnant people need.
Also, did you survive training or did Ethen have to call 911?
I smiled to myself, fingers moving over the screen as I typed back.
Me:
Let's just say I ended up fainting into your brother's arms and may or may not have stolen his bed. Also—four boiled eggs? Ew. That's child abuse.
I sent the message and headed toward the bathroom. I needed a shower, a change of clothes, and probably a whole new body after what I'd done to mine yesterday. But the heat from the fever was gone, and in its place was a strange clarity.
Or maybe just exhaustion wearing a better disguise.
By the time I walked out, hair towel-dried and legs still a bit shaky, Ethen was in the kitchen—headphones in, sleeves rolled up, stirring something in a saucepan like it was a science experiment.
"Hey," I said quietly.
He looked over. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah. Less like roadkill today."
He gave a short nod. "You scared the hell out of me last night."
I paused. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize." His voice was flat. "Just don't do it again."
I walked over slowly, leaning against the counter.
He handed me a bowl. Oatmeal, with bananas cut neatly on top and a small drizzle of honey like he was trying to prove he had at least one domestic skill.
"You didn't have to make breakfast," I said.
"Don't worry, I poisoned it."
I snorted, then actually smiled. "Perfect. That's exactly what I was craving."
We ate in silence. The comfortable kind. He didn't bring up the kiss. Neither did I.
And maybe that was for the best.
For now.
—
Later that afternoon, I changed into fresh clothes and opened my notebook, scribbling notes from training—everything I remembered, every mistake, every correction. I didn't want to forget. I didn't want to fail again.
Ethen passed by once, glanced at the mess of highlighters and notebooks on the coffee table, and muttered, "You're not human."
I didn't look up. "Thanks."
He paused, like he was about to say something else. Then just shook his head and walked off, phone ringing in his hand.
I heard him talking in the other room. The door shut. I couldn't make out the words.
And even though things between us had gone quiet again, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was building.
Waiting.
Maybe in me.
Maybe in him.
Maybe both.
But for now, we stayed in this strange in-between—close enough to feel the heat of what was unspoken, far enough not to burn.
And maybe, for now, that was enough.