The first rays of morning slipped through the cracks in the curtains, tinting the room with a soft, pale light.The apartment smelled faintly of perfume, dry alcohol, and a trace of tobacco. Claire, her hair a wild mess and her eyes swollen from sleep, was the first to wake up. Wrapped in a blanket, she walked barefoot down the hallway, checking each room one by one.
When she opened the door to her own, the one she'd lent to Isaac. she froze.
Isaac lay on his back, face peaceful, breathing slow and steady. His black hair, usually tied back, fanned loosely over the pillows, framing his face in soft strands. But what truly made her jaw drop was what was on top of him.
Dante. Curled around Isaac as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His head rested on Isaac's chest, one arm draped over his waist in a gesture so unconscious it felt intimate.They looked like they'd been sleeping together for years.
Claire pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes wide."Oh. My. God…" she whispered under her breath. "What the hell happened last night?"
She grinned, half in disbelief, half amusement, and quietly closed the door before either of them stirred.
A few minutes later, Dante began to wake up. His breathing shifted, lashes fluttering against the early light spilling into the room. His body moved lazily at first, until he felt it. Something warm. Solid. Someone beneath him.
He blinked a few times, confused, and then froze. Isaac. Fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in calm rhythm.
For a heartbeat, Dante stayed perfectly still. Then reality hit him like a slap. He jerked back so suddenly he tangled himself in the sheets and fell off the bed with a loud thud.
Isaac frowned at the sound, eyes opening slowly. "Do you always wake up like a disaster?"
He sat up, brushing his hair back, blinking at the light. Expression unreadable, as always.
From the floor, Dante just stared. He'd never seen Isaac with his hair down, it was longer than he thought. But what really threw him off was that calmness. That unnerving, infuriating calm.
His brows knit together, and his green eyes met Isaac's in a sharp glare. "Why the hell were you hugging me?" he demanded, trying to sound firm, but it came out more incredulous than angry.
Isaac raised one eyebrow. "Pretty sure you were the one on top of me," he said simply. He stood up, heading toward the door, as if the whole conversation were beneath him. "You clung to me all night like a leech. Try not to interrupt my sleep next time."
Dante sat frozen on the floor, staring blankly.
Me? Clinging to him? The thought hit him hard. Why the hell would I do that? Heat rushed up his neck, half embarrassment, half confusion.
"Hey!" he called, chasing after Isaac down the hall. Before Isaac could close the bathroom door, Dante slipped inside. "Why are you so damn calm about this?!" he blurted out.
Isaac glanced at him. He was quieter when he was asleep, he thought dryly.
"Because I'm not a drama queen like you," he said, rinsing his hands."You were the one crying like a little kid. Maybe you were dreaming about your mommy, I don't know."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. Dante froze. His expression shifted, anger, then something else, something that looked almost… hurt. He didn't say a word. Just nodded stiffly, jaw clenched, and walked out.
Isaac blinked. He's not answering? Guess today's my lucky day, he thought, though the silence left an odd feeling behind. That reaction… wasn't like Dante. Still, he shrugged it off.
When he came out of the bathroom, Dante was sitting on the couch, brows furrowed, that expression that seemed permanently carved into his face. He always wore it when something had his full attention. This time, it was his phone.Isaac let his gaze wander around the room. Outside, snow was still falling hard; the wind rattled against the windows, covering them with a heavy, dirty white layer. He hated snow. Hated the cold. It always made him feel uneasy .
"They went out to get breakfast," Dante muttered without looking up. His voice cut through the silence, pulling Isaac's attention. He was still standing by the door.
"All of them?"
"No. Ethan's still asleep…" Dante sighed, sounding somewhere between annoyed and worried. "Guess he finally realized eating those damn gummies was a stupid idea."
The tone tried to sound angry, but the concern leaked through anyway.Isaac nodded and studied him for a moment. Something about him felt different. Normally, Dante would've thrown some snarky comment or teasing remark his way , but today he was quiet, distant even. The strangest part was how he avoided his eyes completely, like looking at him might burn.Embarrassed, maybe? The thought made Isaac smile to himself, amused by the irony.
The door suddenly burst open, breaking the silence. The group had returned, laughing as the snow crunched beneath their boots. They carried bags full of bread, milk, and everything for breakfast. Isaac offered to make the hot chocolate, and Claire joined in to help.
From the couch, Dante watched them.He couldn't quite explain why, but something about Isaac threw him off. Maybe it was the way he ignored him so effortlessly, as if Dante's presence meant nothing. Nobody had ever made him feel that way before. He was used to being the one people noticed, the one who kept control, who always had the last word. But Isaac... Isaac made him feel transparent. And that unfamiliar feeling twisted inside him like unease disguised as curiosity.His green eyes stayed fixed on the black-haired boy, like a predator studying its prey, yet with a flicker of something else behind it.
Claire caught that look and frowned, confused.What's with him now? she thought, glancing toward Isaac, who was busy stirring the chocolate, completely unaware.
"Hey," Claire whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. "What do you think of Dante?"
Isaac looked up, caught off guard. The question came out of nowhere."What do I think of him?" He tilted his head, a puzzled smile tugging at his lips. "He's... kind of weird."
"Weird how?" she asked a little too quickly, her curiosity slipping through.
Isaac raised an eyebrow."Why are you asking me that?"
Claire let out a small, awkward laugh. "I just know you two don't exactly get along, and Dante doesn't really help either... I just wondered if you actually hate him or—"
"I don't hate him," Isaac interrupted, voice calm as he looked down at the steam rising from the cup. "He just... doesn't sit right with me."
Right then, Dante walked into the kitchen with Kegan, laughing about something to do with a video game. He didn't notice the conversation, or the quick, nervous silence that followed.Claire and Isaac exchanged a glance, then fell quiet. The sound of the wind outside filled the room again.