After what felt like an endless wait in the living room—though in reality, it was probably only a few minutes—I could barely keep my eyes open.
My eyelids were drooping so heavily that I was fighting to stay awake when Liam suddenly burst through the door, a grin stretched across his face.
"Wow. Ayana, you look like you've been hit by a wolf," he teased, eyes twinkling with amusement.
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might pop out.
"Very funny," I muttered, crossing my arms, feeling the weight of my hunger pressing down on me.
He paused dramatically, then glanced over at Mark, sniffing the air so intensely you'd think he was trying to catch a scent from miles away.
His nose wriggled like a pig's as he asked, "What's smelling so good…?"
Before I could even finish saying
"Ethan is—,"
Liam was already rushing inside, practically drooling with anticipation.
He knew—just like everyone else here—that only Ethan could whip up something this amazing.
I pushed myself to my feet, followed closely by Mark.
Even Jake, who had been lounging in the doorway, couldn't resist and joined the stampede into the kitchen.
And what awaited us was nothing short of culinary magic.
Ethan was standing at the counter, a proud smirk playing on his face as he carefully ladled out huge bowls of steaming food.
The aroma hit us like a wave—rich, spicy, and inviting.
The bowls were filled with tender chunks of meat simmered in a fragrant, thick gravy, mingling with colorful vegetables and topped with fresh herbs that looked like tiny green explosions of flavor.
The steam curling up from the food was almost hypnotic, promising comfort and satisfaction.
I couldn't resist.
I grabbed a spoon and dove in, shoveling the food into my mouth with eager haste—so hungry that I barely paused to appreciate it.
But then I stopped for a second, closing my eyes to savor the explosion of flavors—the perfect blend of spices, the melt-in-your-mouth tenderness of the meat, the warmth spreading through my chest like a cozy blanket.
Jake sighed loudly, eyeing my eagerness.
"Eat slower, or you're gonna choke," he warned, a mixture of concern and teasing in his voice, shooting me a playful glare. ''And die''
I rolled my eyes again, annoyed but still hungry.
"I'm starving," I muttered, scooping another mouthful.
Mark smiled warmly and pushed his plate toward me.
"Are you still hungry? Here," he offered softly, pushing his untouched bowl closer.
Ethan, who had been quietly observing, then stepped forward.
Without a word, he reached out and handed me his own bowl—steam still curling from the rich, savory stew inside.
I blinked in surprise. "Ethan, you don't have to—"
He shook his head softly, a calm, almost indifferent look on his face.
"I'm full," he said simply, as if that explained everything.
I looked at him, puzzled.
"But you said you were hungry," I reminded him.
Ethan's expression remained unchanged, his tone steady.
"Just by seeing you all eat like that, I can tell I've had enough," he replied, voice even and matter-of-fact.
His eyes were calm, like he was commenting on the weather, not turning down food.
I hesitated for a moment, then softly whispered,
"Thank you," feeling a strange warmth swirl inside me from his quiet generosity.
Ethan nodded slightly, then turned and quietly walked out of the kitchen, leaving us with the lingering aroma of the delicious meal and a quiet moment of understanding.
-
Later that night, I woke up, my eyes scrubbing themselves sleepily as I let out a long yawn.
The moonlight streamed softly through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room.
I decided to move to the living room, my pajamas loose and comfortable, my messy bun slightly tousled from sleep.
As I stepped forward, I noticed the boys were still there—Liam and Mark, both peacefully asleep on the couches, Mark sprawled on the one-seater, Liam curled up on the larger sofa.
Jake sat on the floor, absorbed in his phone, his eyes flickering in the dim light.
It was only 10 PM, yet I was surprised to find Liam and Mark already asleep.
I quietly approached Jake, who finally looked up as I stood in front of the TV.
"What?" he asked, blinking away sleep.
"Are you going to sleep?" I asked softly.
He shook his head, standing up calmly.
"I think I should get a blanket for Mark and Liam," he said gently, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Somehow, I found myself searching around, my eyes darting from corner to corner.
My heart suddenly squeezed tight—Ethan was nowhere in sight. "Jake, where is Ethan?" I called out.
"Outside," he responded quietly.
Without hesitation, I slipped my tiny legs into my slippers and stepped outside.
There he was—wrapped in a cozy blanket, sitting alone on the bench in our porch, gazing up at the stars.
The night was cold, the chill nipping at my skin, and I cleared my throat softly.
"Ethan..." I whispered, hesitant.
He looked up slightly, eyes shimmering in the moonlight.
"Oh, sit," he said softly, voice gentle.
I lowered myself onto the bench beside him, crossing my arms as the cold seeped into my bones.
The quiet was thick, only the faint rustle of the wind and the distant hum of crickets. I asked softly, "So, what are you doing out here?"
He looked back at the sky, eyes shimmering with a distant sadness.
"Watching the stars. If I don't, I can't sleep," he replied quietly, face pale but eyes twinkling with unspoken thoughts.
"Does it mean anything to you?" I asked, voice trembling just a little.
He sighed deeply, a long, shuddering breath, and I could see the sadness clouding his eyes.
Suddenly, I felt a wave of guilt. "Oh my gosh... did I... I'm sorry..." I whispered, bowing my head, ashamed.
I was about to stand up and leave when I felt a gentle grip—his hand softly holding mine.
I sat back down, surprised. He pulled me closer, and I felt the warmth of his touch amid the cold night.
"My sister..." he began, voice trembling. "She's gone... and it's my fault. I was driving. I was only fourteen. I didn't see her rush out to greet me, and then—" His voice broke, and he looked down, fighting back tears.
"I hit her... and she died."
He paused, shoulders shaking slightly as he fought the tears. "We used to watch stars together pointing at it....smiling'' He chuckled softly.
''But now... I do it alone."
My heart ached deeply. I wanted to reach out, to comfort him, to tell him everything was going to be okay.
But words felt so small compared to his pain.
I hesitated, then softly said, "I'm sorry, Ethan. That must have been incredibly hard... I'm sorry I don't have the right words to make it better."
He nodded, quietly. "It's okay. Just listening... that's enough."
I smiled gently, reaching out my hand, trembling just a little.
"I may not be good with words, but I can do other things." I saw him glance at my hand, hesitating for a moment before he gently squeezed it.
"Just like you all were always there for me, I'll be here for you too," I whispered softly.
He nodded again, and in that quiet moment, I realized I was drifting off to sleep, the warmth of the night and the connection between us lulling me into rest.