4

The rain had stopped, leaving the air thick with the scent of wet earth. As he walked up the porch steps, he resisted the urge to glance back.

The sound of Ishaan’s car driving off was the only sign that he had finally left.

Ashwin unlocked the door, stepped inside, and let out a slow breath.

The house was still and quiet, just the way he liked it.

He barely had time to settle before his phone buzzed.

Hayden.

Hey, I heard about the storm. You okay?

Ashwin sighed, rubbing a hand through his damp hair.

Yeah, got caught in the rain, but I’m fine. Just tired.

The response came instantly.

Do you need anything?

Ashwin shook his head, smiling faintly. Hayden was always like this—warm, steady, thoughtful. It was a sharp contrast to the strange, lingering tension Ishaan seemed to carry wherever he went.

I’m good, promise. Let’s grab lunch tomorrow?

Okay. Get some rest.

Ashwin set the phone down and stretched. He needed sleep.

But as soon as he closed his eyes, the dream started.

He was underwater.

The deep, endless blue surrounded him, wrapping around his body like silk. He felt weightless, suspended in the vast expanse, his breath strangely steady despite the liquid filling his lungs.

A shape moved in the distance.

Dark, coiling.

A massive serpent, its scales gleaming like polished obsidian.

It watched him.

Unblinking. Unmoving.

Then, just as suddenly, the water twisted—shifted.

The dream changed.

The serpent was gone.

And in its place stood Ishaan.

He was standing in the rain, his gray eyes darker than before, almost black, the slitted pupils narrowing as he gazed at Ashwin. He was close. Too close.

Ashwin tried to move, but his body wouldn’t respond. He could only watch as Ishaan reached out, fingers brushing against his wrist—

Ashwin jolted awake, heart hammering.

The room was dim, the faint morning light slipping through the blinds. He sat up, running a hand over his face.

Just a dream.

Just a—

Ashwin barely had a moment to process the dream before the sharp knock at his door pulled him back to reality.

He groaned into his pillow. Who the hell was knocking this early? Hayden wouldn’t come over unannounced, and he hadn’t ordered anything. Maybe it was one of his neighbors.

Dragging himself out of bed, he grabbed a hoodie and threw it on, still groggy. His mind was still half-stuck in the dream—in the water, in the storm, in the way Ishaan had looked at him.

Another knock.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the door. He yawned as he unlocked it, pulling it open without thinking.

The second he saw who was standing there, he instantly regretted not checking first.

Ishaan.

Standing on his porch, looking just as effortlessly put together as he had the night before.

Ashwin blinked at him, still half-asleep. “What—”

“I would have called instead of barging in on you,” Ishaan said, his voice smooth as ever, “but I don’t have your number.”

Ashwin’s brain stalled for a second. He hadn’t even fully registered that Ishaan was at his house before he was already offering logical explanations for his presence.

“What… are you doing here?” Ashwin asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Ishaan tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering over Ashwin’s face—then lower.

Ashwin was too drowsy to notice the way Ishaan’s gaze dragged down, over the loose hoodie barely hanging off his frame, down to the bare skin of his thighs just beneath the hem, lingering on the curve of his knee before finally snapping back up.

“I wanted to talk about the house,” Ishaan said simply.

Ashwin frowned. “House?”

Ishaan leaned against the doorframe. “You said you’d help me find a place.”

Right. Right. The rentals.

Ashwin sighed, stepping back. “Uh, yeah. Come in, I guess.”

Ishaan entered without hesitation, his presence filling the small entryway with something heavy—something palpable.

Ashwin was too distracted to notice the way Ishaan’s gaze roamed over his home, cataloging everything with an unreadable expression.

Instead, Ashwin grabbed his phone and started scrolling through the listings he had saved for an occasion like this. “Okay, so, there are a couple of places available near the café. One of them is a studio—not super big, but it’s decent. Then there’s an apartment complex not too far from here—”

“I’d rather stay here.”

The words were so casual that it took Ashwin a second to process them.

His fingers paused mid-scroll.

He looked up. “…What?”

Ishaan turned to him, his expression unreadable. “You have an extra room.”

Ashwin let out a short laugh. “Yeah. But I like my space.”

Ishaan didn’t blink. “And?”

“And I don’t rent my house to strangers.”

A pause.

Then, unexpectedly, Ishaan smiled.

It wasn’t a grin, wasn’t even particularly wide—but it was there. Faint, calculated, a slow curve of his lips that made something in Ashwin’s stomach tighten.

“But we’re not strangers anymore,” Ishaan said, voice low and smooth.

Ashwin scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, we’re not roommates, either.”

Ishaan didn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze wandered again, scanning Ashwin’s home. His eyes trailed over the couch, the framed pictures on the wall, the pile of books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table.

And then—back to Ashwin.

He looked again, eyes raking over him in a way that was not casual.

This time, Ashwin noticed.

The way Ishaan’s gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his legs. The way it flickered up to his collarbone where his hoodie had slipped slightly off his shoulder.

Ashwin suddenly felt very aware of what he was wearing.

He cleared his throat, tugging his hoodie down as he turned back to his phone. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure there are other places that’ll work.”

“I’d pay rent,” Ishaan said smoothly.

Ashwin glanced at him. “That’s not the point.”

Ishaan stepped closer. Not in an intimidating way, but just enough to feel closer. Just enough that Ashwin caught the faint scent of something clean and cold, like rain on pavement.

“It’s only temporary,” Ishaan continued. “A few months, at most.”

Ashwin exhaled slowly. “I barely know you.”

Ishaan’s lips twitched. “You could get to know me.”

Ashwin shot him a look. “That’s not helping your case.”

The silence stretched.

For a second, Ishaan looked at him like he was considering saying something else—something heavier, something deeper.

But then, just like that, he stepped back.

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

Ashwin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Sure.”

Ishaan gave him one last look—one last lingering look—before turning toward the door.

Ashwin followed, barely processing the conversation they’d just had. He wasn’t entirely sure why Ishaan was so insistent on staying with him. There were other places. Better places.

But somehow, he had a feeling that Ishaan’s mind was already made up.

And Ashwin didn’t know if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one.