Olivia's POV
Noah and I arrived home first. The house felt quiet after the noise of the market and the park. We took off our shoes at the door, and Noah gave me a small nod.
"I'm going to my room to change," he said.
"Okay," I replied.
He disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes passed. About ten minutes later, the front door opened again, and Adrian stepped inside.
"You're back," I said, walking toward him.
"Yeah," he answered, closing the door behind him.
I helped him take off his jacket, pulling it gently from his shoulders.
"What was the call about?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"It was work," he said. "Jack called. I need to go to the next town for a couple of days."
I blinked.
"A couple of days?"
"Yeah," he continued. "You remember the corn plantation I co-own with Jack and the others, right? They're harvesting this week. They're short on people, so they asked me to help."
I watched his hands as he fixed the shoes in the cabinet, lining them up neatly.
"How long will you be gone?" I asked.
"Two days," he said. "Maybe more if things get slow, but I'll try to be quick."
I nodded and forced a small smile.
"Okay," I said. "I'll prepare your things later."
His face softened. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around my waist.
"Thank you," he said quietly, then leaned in to kiss me.
I kissed him back, then pulled away and tapped his chest lightly.
"Go wash up and change," I said. "I'll start dinner."
He smiled.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, giving a small salute before heading to our room.
I watched him go for a second, then turned toward the kitchen. I took a deep breath, tying my hair up as I walked. In the kitchen, I took out a pot and started gathering ingredients for chicken soup—chicken pieces, carrots, onions, garlic, and some herbs.
Noah's POV
After washing up and changing into clean clothes, I headed out of my room.
When I reached the kitchen, I saw Olivia standing by the counter, cutting carrots into neat slices. Her hair was tied back, a few loose strands falling around her face.
Without really thinking, I walked over and gently took the knife from her hand.
"Hey," I said. "Let me help."
She blinked, confused, and her brows pulled together.
"Hey, what are you doing?" she asked. "Give that back."
Her voice wasn't really angry, but there was a hint of annoyance. That look on her face made me let out a small giggle before I could stop myself.
She turned fully toward me, crossing her arms.
"Why are you laughing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
I shrugged, still smiling.
"You're cute when you're mad," I said.
Her eyes went wide for a second, then she quickly looked away and picked up a spatula from the counter.
"Don't annoy me," she said, trying to hide a smile. "Or I'll chop you up and put you in the soup too."
I pretended to gasp and took a step back. Then I copied her voice in a playful way.
"'Don't annoy me,'" I said, imitating her tone badly. "'Or I'll chop you up.'"
Her jaw dropped.
"Noah!" she shouted, but there was laughter in her eyes.
Before I could react, she raised the spatula and started lightly slapping my arm with it.
"Take it back!" she said.
"Ah! Okay, okay!" I laughed, dodging and stepping away.
I ran around the table, and she chased me, still hitting me with the spatula in soft, quick taps. Our footsteps and laughter filled the house.
"Olivia, have mercy!" I shouted, giggling.
"No mercy!" she replied, laughing louder.
We both laughed so much our sides hurt.
Finally, I stopped running. When she raised the spatula again, I caught both her wrists in my hands and held them up gently to stop her. Our bodies were suddenly very close.
"Okay, okay, truce," I said, still smiling, breathing a little fast.
She tried to pull her hands away, but was still giggling.
"Let me go," she said. "You started it."
But then something changed.
Her laughter faded into a small smile, then into silence. My heart started to race again, but this time not from running. She was so close that I could feel her breath on my neck, warm and soft.
I looked down at her face. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks a little red from laughing. The sound of the house around us seemed to fade, leaving only the tiny space between us.
Suddenly, I felt dizzy, like the room had tilted. My mind went blank. I just stared at her, completely caught, as if I had fallen into her eyes and forgotten how to climb out.
I knew she felt it too.
Her hands stopped pulling. Her shoulders relaxed. She looked up at me and went completely still. Our eyes locked. The air between us grew heavier, thicker. Time slowed down into one long, fragile second.
I felt my body lean slightly forward, like something was pulling me closer to her.
But it ended too fast.
Before I could move even an inch closer, Adrian's voice came from behind us.
"What are you two doing?"
We both froze.
Adrian stepped out of their room, fixing the collar of his shirt with one hand and rubbing his damp hair with a towel in the other.
"Why are you so noisy?" he asked with a small laugh. "While I was washing my face, all I could hear was screaming and giggling. What did I miss?"
Olivia reacted first. She pulled her hands away from me and ran toward him, hiding partly behind his shoulder like a child seeking cover.
"Noah was hitting me with a spatula," she said, peeking out and pointing at me.
I stared at her, shocked.
"What?" I said. "That's not true! You were the one hitting me!"
Adrian raised an eyebrow and looked at me, a half-smile forming on his lips. His expression clearly said, Really?
I frowned and looked down, trying to prove my point. That was when I noticed it—the spatula was in my hand.
"…Oh," I muttered.
When I looked up again, Olivia was smirking from behind Adrian, her eyes shining with mischief.
"I swear," I said quickly, pointing the spatula at her and then lowering it. "It was her. She started it. She attacked me first."
Adrian just shook his head, walked over, and slapped my hand lightly, the one holding the spatula.
"Sure, sure," he said. "That's what they all say."
He grinned.
"Come on, troublemaker. Help me in the kitchen before you burn the house down with your drama."
Olivia laughed.
Adrian turned his head toward her.
"Go freshen up," he said. "Then you can come back and be the supervisor."
She looked at me one last time, her grin wide and teasing, as if she knew exactly how flustered I felt.
"Don't break anything while I'm gone," she said.
Then she disappeared into their bedroom, the door closing softly behind her.
I sighed and followed Adrian into the kitchen.
"Why does it feel like I just lost at the Olympics?" I muttered.
Adrian burst out laughing.
"Well, you did lose," he said. "To a spatula."
He clapped a hand on my shoulder.
"Come on, champ. Let's make that soup."
I forced a smile and picked up a carrot to chop, but my mind was still back in that moment—her hands in mine, her breath close, her eyes locked with mine.
And the feeling that something between us had almost changed.