Silence in a Long Night

That night, the three of them slept in the living room. Theresia and James had already fallen asleep on the sofa, while Steve was still awake.

His eyes stared at the ceiling, but his mind drifted to Viona's room. He knew the girl was hurting, and it made his chest feel tight.

His thoughts kept replaying the earlier incident—seeing Viona so weak, her eyes swollen from too much crying. This wasn't the usually cheerful and spirited Viona. This was a broken Viona, and it made him feel helpless.

Steve sighed quietly and sat up on the sofa. He glanced over at James and Theresia, who seemed to be sleeping soundly, before finally standing up slowly and walking toward Viona's room door.

He didn't knock, not wanting to disturb her, but his heart was really uneasy.

"Vi…" he murmured softly, even though he knew Viona couldn't hear him.

Steve clenched his fists. If only there was something he could do to make Viona feel better. If only he could take away the pain the girl was feeling.

He leaned against the wall near Viona's door, staring at the floor with a blank expression.

The night felt so long.

Steve sighed heavily. His eyes were still on Viona's door, but his mind wandered elsewhere—to Theresia's earlier question.

"Is your relationship with Sharone still okay?"

Steve hadn't answered that at the time. He had just smiled faintly and changed the topic. But now, in the silence of the night, that question echoed in his head.

Sharone was his girlfriend. The one who had always been by his side. His first love.

But lately, everything felt… different. There were no more long conversations like before. No more of the same warmth. Every time Sharone asked him to meet up, she was always busy—and her busyness wasn't because of work or other activities.

It was because of Viona.

Steve didn't know when his attention had started to split. When his feelings had begun to drift away from Sharone and subconsciously grow closer to Viona. He had always cared for that girl, always wanting to protect her. But before, he could say that feeling was just friendship.

Now… he wasn't so sure anymore.

Did he still love Sharone like he used to?

Or had he merely been trying to maintain their relationship out of fear of admitting something else?

Steve rubbed his face.

His mind was crowded, and his chest felt tight. He didn't want to hurt anyone. Not Sharone, not Viona.

But the more he ignored his own feelings, the more he realized—something had changed within him. Something he could no longer deny.

Steve opened his phone, launched the chat app, and scrolled up to find his conversation with Sharone.

The last time they exchanged messages was a week ago.

His eyes focused on the last message from Sharone:

"Don't forget to rest. I'm going home early, okay?"

At that time, the six of them were gathering at Theresia's and Sharone's house. A moment that should have been enjoyable, but for some reason, since that night, everything felt increasingly distant.

Sharone used to always ask how he was doing. She always made sure Steve ate on time, reminding him not to overwork himself. But now, even after Steve hadn't contacted her for a week, Sharone hadn't sent a single message first.

And Steve? He hadn't even tried to reach out to her.

They were like two strangers slowly drifting apart with neither making any effort to hold on.

Steve stared at his phone screen for a long time. His fingers twitched, wanting to type something. But what should he say? Sorry for ignoring you? Sorry for being too busy thinking about someone else?

His heart sank.

Perhaps this was his fault.

Or perhaps both of them had simply stopped trying.

When morning came, the faint sunlight began to penetrate through the gap in the curtains. Viona slowly opened her bedroom door, still feeling a bit dizzy from the fever the night before.

However, her steps halted as she saw someone lying on the floor, right in front of her door.

Steve.

The man was sleeping in a sitting position with his back against the wall, his head tilted slightly to the side. He looked tired, with faint circles under his eyes.

Viona was frozen. Her chest felt warm yet tight seeing him like this.

"Steve?" she murmured softly.

Hearing that voice, Steve stirred slightly before finally opening his eyes. For a moment, he looked confused, then hurriedly straightened his back.

"You're awake?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Viona nodded slowly. "You… slept here all night?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward. "I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about you."

Viona fell silent. Her heart sank hearing those words.

Steve then stood up and sighed. "How do you feel? Still dizzy?"

That genuine concern made Viona feel even more tight in the chest. Unconsciously, her eyes began to heat up again. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to spill.

"I'm fine," she replied softly.

Steve looked at her as if he knew that was just an answer to calm herself. But instead of pressing her, he just smiled slightly and said, "Good, then. Come on, I'll make you some warm tea."

And for the first time in a long time, Viona felt like there was someone who truly stayed for her.

On one side, in the living room, James and Theresia were still sound asleep on the sofa. They were cuddled up in a comfortable position, with James's arms wrapped around Theresia's shoulders while her head rested on his chest. Their breaths were steady, appearing so peaceful as if the world around them didn't exist.

Steve glanced over at them as he walked toward the kitchen. He sighed quietly, a little envious of how James and Theresia could sleep so peacefully while he spent the night restless, thinking about Viona and… Sharone.

Without wasting time, Steve began preparing tea for Viona. His hands deftly poured hot water into a cup, adding a little honey, hoping the drink would help warm her still weak body.

Viona sat in a chair at the kitchen table with her arms folded. Her eyes were still slightly puffy from crying the night before, her body weak from the lingering fever. But seeing Steve standing in front of the stove, focused on pouring warm tea into the cup, gave her a sense of calm.

Steve turned to her as soon as he finished preparing the tea. "Drink this, so your body stays warm."

Viona took the cup with both hands, feeling the warmth flowing through her fingertips. She looked at Steve, her eyes filled with feelings that were hard to express.

"Thank you, Steve," she said softly.

Steve smiled faintly, though there was still worry lingering in his eyes. "Don't mention it. I just don't want to see you sick like this."

Viona lowered her gaze, inhaling the soothing aroma of the tea before gently blowing on it. Her heart felt warm—not just from the tea she was holding, but also because someone still cared for her, remaining by her side without needing to be asked.

Steve leaned back against the kitchen table, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Viona with a relaxed expression.

"What do you want to eat? I can cook anything," he said playfully. "Chef Steve is at your service."

Viona, who had just taken a sip of her tea, raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly. "Oh really? Since when have you become a chef?"

"Since birth," Steve replied quickly, putting on a proud expression. "I'm great at cooking. You're the one who said so before, remember?"

Viona chuckled softly. She did know that Steve was good at cooking—even back then, they used to joke that Steve would be better off opening a restaurant than being busy with his music.

"Then cook me something," she finally challenged him. "But don't make it carelessly; I want it to be delicious."

Steve pretended to think hard, then nodded firmly. "Okay. Challenge accepted."

Viona smiled wider than before. For the first time in days, she felt a little lighter. Steve always knew how to make her feel better, even without trying too hard.

Steve quickly took out the ingredients from the kitchen, his hands skillfully preparing bread, eggs, and some secret spices he usually used.

Viona sat quietly watching him. There was something calming about watching Steve cook—his movements were skillful, as if he knew exactly what to do without needing to think too long.

"I can't believe you still remember how to cook," Viona remarked as she rested her chin on her hand.

Steve glanced at her with a small smile. "Of course, I remember. Cooking is like riding a bike; you never forget."

Viona sighed softly. "Then I'm the one who will forget. I can't ride a bike."

Steve chuckled. "That's because you never really wanted to learn."

Viona just rolled her eyes a bit while Steve started to toast the bread in the pan, flipping it until the outside turned golden and crispy. Then, he poured the scrambled eggs into a small pan, stirring them gently until they became soft and creamy.

"This is the secret sauce for the toast," Steve said as he poured his homemade sauce over the toasted bread. The aroma spread immediately, making Viona's quiet stomach finally let out a soft growl.

Steve suppressed a laugh. "Hear that? Your stomach is more honest than you are."

Viona rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide her smile. When Steve finally presented the toast and scrambled eggs in front of her, she looked at him with heartfelt gratitude.

"Thank you, Steve," she said softly before starting to eat.

Steve just smiled faintly. "Always."