Where Hands Brush.

The car pulled up in front of a modest yet elegant house nestled in a quiet neighborhood. Kieran turned off the engine and glanced at Amara, who was staring out the window with curious eyes.

"We're here," he said softly.

Amara nodded and stepped out, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She followed Kieran to the front door, where he waited for her to catch up before ringing the bell.

Inside, his grandmother sat comfortably in the living room, reading the morning paper with her glasses perched low on her nose. The scent of old books and lavender hung in the air—welcoming and nostalgic.

As soon as she looked up and saw Kieran and Amara entering together, her face lit up with a wide smile as they stepped inside—and immediately, her expression warmed.

"There you are," she said with a bright smile. Her eyes landed on Amara, and her smile grew. "And you—Amara, dear. It's good to see you again."

Amara smiled back, feeling a little flutter of warmth at the welcome.

Kieran's grandmother stood up slowly and reached out to take Amara's hands in hers. "It's wonderful to see you, dear. You look even more radiant than the last time."

"Must be the hostel food," Amara joked, and both women chuckled.

Kieran watched the exchange with quiet amusement as he took a seat nearby, his usually stoic face softening just a touch.

Amara settled beside Grandma and opened her bag. "Actually, I brought something for you."

"Oh?" Grandma's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Amara carefully pulled out a soft, knitted scarf in shades of pale blue and cream. "The weather's starting to get chilly again. I thought you might like this."

Grandma took the scarf gently, fingers brushing over the delicate threads. "Oh my. It's beautiful."

"It's a 'walk in winter light' shade," Amara said playfully. "Very pretty. Just like you."

Grandma blinked, then let out a delighted laugh, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Oh, Amara. You're trying to make an old lady feel young again."

"You don't need a scarf to feel young," Amara replied sweetly. "You've got that sparkle in your eyes already."

That made Grandma laugh even more. She reached out and gave Amara's cheek a gentle pat. "You always know exactly what to say. If I were twenty years younger, I'd be worried you'd steal my spotlight."

Amara grinned. "If you were twenty years younger, I'd be asking for your skincare routine."

Their laughter filled the room, a soft, easy sound that made the air warmer somehow.

Kieran, watching them, felt something shift quietly in his chest. His grandmother's eyes twinkled with joy, and her laughter hadn't sounded this light in weeks. The sight of her wrapped in the scarf, smiling like she had been gifted a piece of spring itself, made something in his expression soften completely.

For the first time in a long while, his serious face broke into a rare, genuine smile.

After a few more moments of easy conversation, Grandma set down her tea and stood up with a gentle stretch.

"Kieran," she said, brushing imaginary lint from her cardigan, "why don't you show Amara around the garden? The flowers are in full bloom this time of year. I'll whip up something light."

Kieran stood, about to agree, when he paused. "Is Aunt Miley not coming?"

Grandma shook her head with a slight sigh. "No, dear. Her husband's down with a fever again. She's taking care of him."

She turned to Amara with a warm smile. "So, my dear, you enjoy our little garden with Kieran, hmm? The marigolds are brighter than the sun this season."

Just as she was about to step away, Amara gently reached out and stopped her. "Wait, Grandma…You should rest. Let me make lunch today."

Grandma blinked, slightly taken aback. "You want to cook?"Grandma chuckled, clearly amused. "Do you even know how to cook, darling?"

Amara placed a hand on her hip, feigning offense. "Of course I do! I'm actually pretty good. You can put me to the test."

"Well then," Grandma beamed. "I'll taste Amara's hands today."

Kieran, still standing, glanced sideways at her, clearly surprised but saying nothing. His eyes lingered on Amara, something unreadable flickering in them.

"What would you like to eat?" Amara asked, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Oh, anything, dear." Grandma chuckled. "I'll show you the kitchen," Grandma turned and walked toward the kitchen, and Amara followed after her.

Inside, the kitchen had the charm of an old-world home — ceramic jars, polished wooden shelves, and spices arranged in little glass boxes. Amara looked around with curiosity and delight.

As Grandma began to open a cabinet, Amara gently took the handle from her. "Grandma, please — sit down, or go rest. I can manage from here."

Grandma hovered near the counter, trying to offer help. "Should I at least chop the vegetables?"

Amara shook her head, opening the fridge and scanning its contents. "Nope, I've got this. You sit and relax. Let me take care of everything today."

"But—"

Grandma tried lingering near the counter, watching, but Amara gently herded her out with a teasing but firm smile. "No peeking. Go enjoy your paper or take a nap."

Grandma finally relented and returned to the living room, where Kieran was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. She settled beside him with a soft sigh.

"She's very different from Kelvin's sister," she remarked.

Kieran lowered his phone, a brow lifting. "Grandma, you were the one who set me up with her."

Grandma shrugged with an air of innocence. "Who knew she'd nearly burn instant noodles?"

Kieran shook his head in disbelief.

With a sly smile, Grandma added, "Go on. Help her. This is her first time in my kitchen. Make her feel comfortable."

"I don't need—"

"Just go," Grandma interrupted, waving him off. "Don't stand there like a lamp. She's doing this for us, you know."

With a resigned sigh, Kieran got to his feet and walked toward the kitchen. As he approached, he stopped just outside the doorway, his eyes catching sight of Amara moving about the kitchen — barefoot, her sleeves rolled up, her hair tied into a messy bun, and her face scrunched up in concentration as she explored the unfamiliar space.

She opened a drawer and leaned forward, struggling slightly to reach a pan that had been shoved all the way to the back.

"Come on…" she mumbled, standing on her toes and stretching her arm out.

Before she could grasp it, a hand reached easily over her shoulder from behind and pulled it out smoothly.

Startled, Amara turned.

Kieran stood there, holding the pan casually in one hand.

"Thanks." she said, the word catching softly in her throat. He held it out, and their fingers brushed as she took it.

"Do you even know what you're making?" he asked.

"Of course," Amara said confidently, turning to the sink to wash the vegetables. She rolled up her sleeves a little higher.

Kieran lingered a moment behind her, hands in his pockets, watching her. Then he stepped closer and asked,"Is there anything I can help with?"

She glanced over her shoulder, briefly surprised, then smiled. "Nothing, really. I've got it."

Kieran didn't move away. His eyes flicked to the bowl of unwashed vegetables, and without waiting for permission, he gently reached over and took them from her hands.

"I'll help you wash these," he said simply, already turning the faucet on beside her.