Back in the city

Severa's POV

Leaving the hotel felt like stepping away from a world that only Eugene and I understood—a space that existed outside of time, outside of responsibilities, where nothing and no one else mattered. But as we packed up our things, preparing to head back to the main city, the weight of reality settled back in. This wasn't just some fleeting escape. It was real.

And real things had consequences.

I locked my car in the hotel's parking lot, deciding to leave it there since I'd be coming back after New Year. Eugene had insisted we only take one car, and honestly, I didn't argue. It was easier this way. Less hassle. Less chance for me to overthink things.

As we walked toward his black SUV, Eugene reached out and took my hand—naturally, without hesitation, as if it had always been ours to hold.

"You're really okay with leaving your car here?" he asked, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over my knuckles.

I shrugged, focusing on how warm his hand was in mine. "Yeah. I'll need it when I come back anyway."

He hummed in response, seemingly satisfied with my answer, before opening the passenger door for me. I climbed inside, the leather seats cool against my skin. He circled to the driver's side, settling in, and for a moment, we just sat there.

He turned to me, studying my face as if he was memorizing it. Then, with a quiet smirk, he murmured, "Ready?"

I exhaled. "Yeah."

Was I, though?

The city blurred past us in streaks of neon lights and quiet streets. Inside the car, the world felt smaller, more intimate.

Eugene rested one hand on the steering wheel while the other found its way back to mine, his fingers warm and steady. Occasionally, he'd glance at me, as if checking to see if I was still here, still with him.

I was.

I just wasn't sure how to be here.

"Why so quiet?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I shook my head. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

I hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth. "Everything."

His lips quirked up, but there was something deeper in his eyes—something that told me he understood exactly what I meant.

"You're not regretting this, are you?"

I turned my gaze toward the window, watching as the streetlights flickered past. "No," I admitted. "But it still scares me."

Eugene didn't respond immediately. Instead, he tightened his grip on my hand, grounding me, before softly saying, "Me too."

And for some reason, that made me feel better.

When we finally arrived at his house, I wasn't sure what to expect.

Eugene had mentioned before that he built it himself—well, not physically, but he had been involved in every detail. And now, standing in front of it, I could see the imprint of his mind all over the structure.

It wasn't extravagant, but it was beautiful—modern and minimalistic, yet somehow warm and inviting. Dark wood, sleek glass, and clean lines made up the architecture. The driveway led to a spacious garage, and through the wide glass windows, I could see a dimly lit living room with soft, earthy tones.

"You built this?" I asked as we stepped out of the car.

Eugene smirked, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I designed it. Paid for it. Bossed people around. So yeah, pretty much."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't hide my admiration. It suited him—practical, sharp, and undeniably his.

As we walked inside, I took in every detail. The space was neat, well-maintained, but not sterile. There were hints of him everywhere—the faint smell of his cologne lingering in the air, a leather jacket draped over the couch, a pair of boots kicked off near the door.

"Sorry for the mess," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

I laughed. "Eugene, this isn't messy. You should see my condo on a bad day."

He smirked. "I'm about to, aren't I?"

I shot him a look, but there was no malice in his words. Just quiet amusement.

He gathered a few things—some clothes, toiletries—before we finally left for my condo.

Arriving at my place felt different.

Not because it wasn't home, but because, for the first time, I wasn't walking into it alone.

Eugene set his bag down near the couch, stretching as he looked around.

"So, this is where my girlfriend lives, huh?" he mused, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I rolled my eyes, pretending not to react to the word girlfriend even as my stomach twisted at the sound of it.

"Yes, and my condo has rules," I said, crossing my arms. "No leaving wet towels on the floor. No hogging the blankets. And no—"

Before I could finish, Eugene pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me with a quiet certainty that sent my thoughts scattering.

I stiffened, caught off guard, but slowly melted against him.

"I'll follow all your rules," he murmured, his lips pressing softly against my hair. "Just don't kick me out, okay?"

I swallowed, nodding.

We were doing this.

For real.

And the thought scared me in ways I wasn't ready to admit.

Dinner with Diane

By evening, we met Diane at a cozy restaurant she had chosen—a quiet place with warm lights and wooden interiors, the kind of spot where conversations linger and laughter settles in the air like a soft hum. The moment we walked in together, her sharp gaze locked onto us, narrowing in suspicion.

"Okay, you two look suspiciously cozy. What's going on?" she asked, tapping her manicured nails against the table.

Eugene smirked, placing a guiding hand on the small of my back as he led me toward the table. "Nice to see you too, Diane," he said smoothly.

She scoffed, but still pulled me in for a quick hug before sitting down. Her eyes flicked back and forth between Eugene and me, her curiosity practically vibrating off her. "Seriously. Spill. Now."

I hesitated, glancing at Eugene.

He didn't. Without a moment's pause, he reached under the table and took my hand, his fingers threading through mine with ease, like he had done it a hundred times before. The warmth of his skin against mine steadied me more than I wanted to admit.

Then, with that same effortless confidence, he turned to Diane and said, "We're together."

Diane blinked, her expression frozen in momentary disbelief. "You're what?"

I let out a slow breath. "We're in a relationship."

For a long beat, she just stared, like she was waiting for the punchline to some elaborate joke. Then, finally, she leaned back, arms crossing over her chest. "How? When? Why?!"

Eugene chuckled, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean why?"

Diane gestured between us, exasperated. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I knew you two had something—but Severa, you told me yourself that you didn't have time for a hot CEO. Now, all of a sudden, you're dating him?"

I bit my lip, unsure how to explain it in a way that made sense. Because the truth was, it didn't entirely make sense to me either.

Eugene, however, remained completely at ease. "We already met before," he said simply.

Diane's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

He nodded. "That summer, years ago. I liked her back then too."

Diane's gaze darted to me, searching my face for confirmation. I swallowed, nodding.

"Okay, but then why did it take this long?" she pressed, suspicion laced in her tone.

I hesitated.

Beside me, Eugene's jaw tensed slightly, but he kept his expression neutral. "Things didn't work out back then. But now they have."

Diane squinted at him. "That's vague."

I let out a nervous laugh. "Just take it, Diane."

She sighed dramatically, still eyeing Eugene like she was deciding whether to believe him. Then, she pointed a finger at him, her voice dropping into something more serious. "Fine. But if you break her heart, I'll end you."

Eugene smirked, tilting his head. "Noted."

Diane huffed, but I could see the soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Despite her skepticism, she was happy for me.

As the night went on, the tension melted away, replaced by easy conversation, teasing, and the occasional knowing glance Diane sent my way. I could tell she had more questions—questions she wasn't asking yet—but for now, she let it go.

And as I sat there, listening to Diane and Eugene banter, my fingers still lightly tangled with his under the table, I felt something unfamiliar settle in my chest.

Contentment.

There were still things left unsaid. Still things Diane didn't know. Still things I hadn't fully processed.

But for now, this was enough.

For now, we could just be happy.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe in that.