chapter 38: explanation

Mika POV:

Milan was buzzing with the energy of the fashion world. The streets were lined with high-end boutiques, and the anticipation of the show was in the air. I couldn't help but feel a little thrill as Andrew and I made our way to the venue. It was just the two of us, the fashion department students, and the department manager. Bose wasn't here—he was still in Rome with the others, and honestly, I was kind of relieved. He'd never cared much for fashion, and this would've been a bore for him. Plus, with him not around, I didn't have to pretend I wasn't annoyed by Andrew.

We arrived at the venue, and of course, Andrew and I were ushered to the VIP section while the department manager and the students took their seats in the back. Andrew was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes gleamed as he surveyed the runway, already thinking of the critiques he'd soon deliver. I, on the other hand, was here for the fashion, not the spectacle. But still, I couldn't deny the rush of sitting in the front row, surrounded by the elite of the fashion world.

The lights dimmed, and the first model appeared. Her outfit was sleek, sharp lines and bold colors. I nodded in appreciation—this was more like it. But then came the next model, and my eyebrows shot up. A chaotic clash of neon colors, oversized bows, and strange, clunky boots. I tried to keep my composure, but it was hard not to roll my eyes.

Just as I was thinking how ridiculous it looked, Andrew leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "Is she wearing an inflatable raft as a dress?"

I smirked, fighting back a laugh. "It sure looks like it," I whispered back.

We continued like that throughout the show, whispering our thoughts, critiquing each piece as it made its way down the runway. Some outfits were genuinely stunning, innovative and bold, but others were just... laughable. One model came out in an outfit so bizarre—something that looked like a cross between a birdcage and a wedding dress—and Andrew leaned in again, this time with a wicked grin. "If the bride can't decide between getting married or starting a new bird sanctuary."

I laughed, unable to help myself. As much as I hated to admit it, Andrew's comments were spot on. For once, we were in sync. It felt strange, having this unspoken agreement with him. We didn't even have to say much; we just exchanged looks and knew what the other was thinking.

By the time the show ended, my cheeks hurt from trying to suppress my laughter. It had been one of the strangest experiences—sharing this unintentional camaraderie with Andrew. Normally, he grated on my nerves with his constant need to show off and be the center of attention. But today, we'd been on the same wavelength. He even made me laugh more than once, which, if you'd asked me this morning, I'd have said was impossible.

As we stood to leave, Andrew looked at me with a smirk. "You know, for someone who doesn't like me, you sure seemed to enjoy our little chats today."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "Don't get used to it, Andrew. You just happened to be right for once."

He chuckled, clearly satisfied with himself. "Well, I'm glad I could provide some entertainment."

As we walked out of the venue and into the bustling Milan streets, I felt oddly at ease. Sure, I still didn't like Andrew that much, but today had been... fun. It was one of those rare moments where we connected, even if it was over ridiculous fashion choices. And in the world of fashion, maybe that was enough.

Bose POV:

All day, I noticed it. Chapa hadn't really been herself around me. Normally, we'd share a few words, a laugh, or just a look that would carry more meaning than anything spoken. But today, she was distant. She kept close to the other students, talking to them, laughing with them, like I didn't even exist. It felt... off.

At first, I brushed it off. Maybe she was just tired from last night. Maybe she needed space. But as the hours passed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. My mind kept going back to last night—to the way she snuck out of my room early in the morning, without even saying goodbye. And then it hit me.

The words I said to her last night.

"I love you."

Maybe that was it. I had said it almost without thinking, just before we fell asleep, but maybe for her, it was everything. Maybe it scared her, made her feel uncertain, and now she was pulling away. The realization gnawed at me all day, but I decided to give her space, thinking she might just need time to process.

By the time evening rolled around, we all found ourselves in a bar. It was supposed to be a fun night out, just to relax after a long day of exploring Rome. The music was loud, drinks were flowing, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Well, everyone except me. I couldn't focus on anything except Chapa.

She was surrounded by a group of students, laughing and chatting like nothing was wrong. I watched as, one by one, the group started to dwindle. People began leaving, heading back to the hotel. And before long, it was just her, sitting alone at the bar. She glanced around, looking a little lost, maybe even a little uneasy, now that her usual company had left.

That's when I saw my chance.

I took a deep breath, stood up, and made my way over to her. We hadn't talked all day, and I knew I had to approach this carefully. As I got closer, she looked up, her eyes meeting mine for the first time in what felt like forever. There was a flicker of something—maybe nervousness or uncertainty—but I didn't let it stop me.

I offered my hand, trying to be as casual as I could, even though I was anything but. "Wanna dance?"

For a moment, she hesitated, then placed her hand in mine. The music was loud, but it wasn't fast—something with a decent beat, but not too slow. It was perfect for what I had in mind. We moved to the center of the floor, and soon enough, we were dancing. Not a full-on slow dance, but something relaxed. Enough movement to keep things light, but still close enough for it to feel intimate.

As we moved, I couldn't help but admire her. Even though she was nervous, she danced with the same grace she always had, and there was something comforting about being this close again.

Then, as the moment felt right, I leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You didn't talk to me all day... for someone who said they wanted to be with me the next few days."

Her body tensed ever so slightly, and I could see her biting her lip, trying to find the right words. She looked away, a little flustered, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for an escape route.

"I—" she started, but her voice was swallowed up by the music. She swallowed hard, her eyes finally meeting mine again. "I wasn't avoiding you. I mean, I was... but it's not what you think."

I smiled softly. "Then what is it, Chapa? You know you can talk to me."

She shifted her weight slightly, looking down for a moment before looking back up at me. "Last night," she began, her voice softer now, "I thought I dreamed it. What you said. And then this morning, I couldn't face you. I didn't know if I had imagined it or if it was real."

I raised my eyebrow, though I wasn't surprised. I had a feeling this was what had been on her mind. "It was real," I whispered back, gently squeezing her hand. "I meant every word."

Her breath caught, and for a second, she looked like she didn't know what to say. "But why?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the music. "Why me?"

I stopped dancing for a moment and looked at her. Really looked at her. She had this vulnerability in her eyes that I hadn't seen before, like she didn't believe she deserved to be loved.

"Why not you?" I replied, pulling her a little closer. "You've always been the one. It's just taken me a while to say it out loud."

Her face flushed slightly, and she glanced down at our hands, her fingers intertwined with mine. She was quiet for a few moments, as if trying to process what I was saying.

"I guess I just... I don't know how to believe it," she admitted, her voice so soft I almost didn't catch it.

I leaned in closer, my lips near her ear. "Then let me show you, Chapa. Let me prove it."

She didn't say anything for a moment, but the way her grip tightened around my hand told me everything I needed to know. She was scared, unsure, but she wasn't pushing me away.

We kept dancing, and as we did, something shifted between us. The distance, the confusion—it started to melt away, little by little. And even though there were still things left unsaid, for the first time all day, I felt like we were back on the same page.

I smiled down at her, and she gave me the smallest, shyest smile back. It wasn't much, but it was enough. For now.

Andrew POV:

Today it was Tuesday. It was our last day in Milan, and Mika, the fashion department, and I had one mission: shopping. Of course, this was no casual stroll through the city. We were in Milan, the fashion capital of the world, and I had no intention of letting that go to waste.

As we hit Via Montenapoleone, the heart of Milan's fashion district, I couldn't help but feel the excitement bubble up. The streets were lined with luxurious designer stores, and my credit card was burning a hole in my pocket. Mika walked beside me, trying to look composed, but I could see the gleam in her eyes. Even though she tried to play it cool, she was just as eager as I was.

"Alright, people," I said, turning to the fashion students trailing behind us, "this is where you either make your mark or regret every missed opportunity."

Mika rolled her eyes. "Andrew, it's just shopping."

"Just shopping?" I gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to my chest. "In Milan? Do not insult the sacred art of retail therapy."

One of the students, Tara, giggled, and Mika shot me a look, half-amused, half-annoyed. "You're ridiculous," she muttered.

We stepped into our first store, a sleek boutique that screamed exclusivity. The soft hum of ambient music greeted us as we were ushered inside by an overly polite sales associate. As the others dispersed, I headed straight for the men's section. The crisp lines of the suits and the vibrant textures called out to me.

Mika wandered toward the dresses, and I found myself glancing over at her. She had this way of looking so effortlessly put-together, even while casually browsing. I watched as she picked up a flowing black dress, holding it up to her frame.

"That one's perfect for you," I said, walking over to her.

She gave me a sideways glance, her lips curving into a smirk. "You think?"

"Absolutely," I replied, leaning in slightly. "But then again, you could probably wear a paper bag and still look good."

Mika rolled her eyes again, though I could tell she was pleased. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Andrew."

"Sure it will," I said with a grin. "Let's see you try it on."

She hesitated for a second before nodding and disappearing into the changing room. While she was busy, I kept browsing, pulling out a jacket here, a shirt there, already picturing the perfect combinations. The thrill of it all—being in Milan, finding the right pieces—it never got old.

When Mika stepped out of the fitting room, I couldn't help but stare for a second. The dress fit her perfectly, hugging her in all the right places while still looking sophisticated.

"Okay, yeah, you're buying that," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Mika looked at herself in the mirror, tilting her head as she examined the dress. "It's nice," she admitted, almost reluctantly.

"It's more than nice, Mika. It looks perfect," I said, leaning against the wall.

She let out a small laugh. "Alright, alright, fine. I'll get it."

After a few more stores—and a few more successful purchases—we regrouped with the others at a nearby café. The day had flown by, and the students were chatting excitedly about their finds, bags of designer clothes at their feet.

Mika sipped her espresso, her eyes scanning the street outside. "I'm going to miss this place," she said, more to herself than to me.

"Yeah," I agreed, "but hey, Milan will always be here. And so will the shopping."

She laughed. "You're impossible."

We still had some time before we had to catch the bus back to Rome, so we decided to squeeze in one last stop. I dragged everyone to a small, tucked-away store I'd been dying to visit. It wasn't as flashy as the others, but it had character. The kind of place where you could find something unique.

As soon as we walked in, I knew I'd made the right choice. The students immediately fanned out, excited whispers filling the air as they sifted through the racks. Mika found herself a sleek leather jacket, and I could tell by the way she looked at it that she was in love.

"Another must-buy?" I teased, nudging her with my elbow.

She smiled. "You might be right about this one."

With our bags full and our wallets significantly lighter, we finally made our way back to the hotel. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm glow over the city.

"Well," I said, glancing over at Mika as we walked, "it's been a good run. We did Milan justice."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, we did."

Miles POV:

I was sprawled out on the sleek leather couch in the Man's Nest. The large screen in front of me flickered with scenes from Genuine Moments, my favorite show. It was the perfect distraction, a comfortable balance of comedy and drama that let me disconnect from reality for a while.

As I settled deeper into the couch, halfway through a particularly dramatic scene, my phone buzzed. Instinctively, I glanced down at it, expecting some trivial notification, but it wasn't. It was an alert from my apartment. Someone was ringing the doorbell.

I frowned, sitting up slightly. Who the hell would be at my apartment at this hour? It was nearly 8 p.m., and I wasn't expecting anyone. Very few people even knew about the place—just a cover to blend into normal life. I rarely used it, preferring the isolation of the Nest, and I sure as hell didn't give out the address freely.

I felt a spike of curiosity, mingled with unease. My hand tightened around the phone as I teleported.

I stepped toward the front door cautiously, checking the camera feed on my phone to confirm what I already knew—someone was really there.

I opened the door.

And standing in front of me was Blaise.

Her unexpected presence threw me off balance. She stood casually in the hallway, wearing a long coat that hung loosely around her, and next to her was a small child, a little girl with wide, curious eyes clutching a stuffed rabbit. She couldn't have been more than ten or eleven.

"Blaise?" I blurted out, blinking rapidly as I tried to make sense of the situation. "What are you doing here? And... who's this?"

Blaise smiled, though there was a tiredness in her eyes that made me wonder if something was wrong. "This is Lena," she said, looking down at the little girl. "My sister."

I blinked again, my mind scrambling to catch up. Her sister? What the hell was going on?

Before I could ask more questions, Blaise spoke again. "I need a favor, Miles."

Her tone was soft but urgent, and I could tell that whatever this was, it wasn't something casual. I felt a prickle of anxiety in my chest. "A favor?" I echoed, glancing down at Lena, who was still staring up at me with those big, curious eyes. "What kind of favor?"

Blaise shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable. "I know this is out of the blue, and I wouldn't ask if it weren't important, but... I need someone to watch Lena for a couple of hours. I have to meet someone, and it's kind of last minute."

I stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. Babysit? That was the last thing I expected when I opened the door. "Wait, what? You want me to babysit?"

Blaise nodded, her expression softening as she glanced down at her sister. "I wouldn't ask if I had any other options, Miles. But I trust you."

I hesitated, caught off guard by how serious she seemed. We barely knew each other, just a night out, some light conversation... and now she was asking me to watch her little sister? I wasn't exactly the babysitting type.

"I don't know, Blaise..." I trailed off, rubbing the back of my neck.

Lena, sensing the hesitation, hugged her stuffed rabbit closer, and for some reason, that little gesture tugged at me. The kid was clearly shy, but she looked harmless enough, and Blaise... well, she looked like she was out of options. I let out a breath.

"Alright," I finally said, stepping aside to let them in. "But you owe me an explanation when you get back."

Blaise smiled, a genuine expression of relief washing over her face. "Thank you, Miles. I promise I won't be long."

She knelt down in front of Lena, smoothing her hair and speaking to her softly. "You're going to stay with Miles for a little while, okay? Be good."

Lena nodded, clutching her stuffed rabbit even tighter. "Okay."

Blaise stood up, giving me one last grateful look before slipping out the door and disappearing into the night.

Now, it was just me and Lena.

I looked down at her, unsure of what to say or do. "Uh... do you like cartoons?" I asked, feeling awkward as hell.

Lena gave me a shy smile and nodded. "I like Super Bunny."

I sighed, relieved. At least she was easy to please. "Alright, Super Bunny it is."

I grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels until I found the show. As the animated bunny bounced across the screen, Lena settled onto the couch, her legs swinging back and forth.

I watched her for a moment, still not sure how I'd ended up in this situation. Babysitting was definitely not my thing, but there was something about Lena—her quiet nature, the way she clutched that stuffed rabbit—that made me feel like maybe this wasn't so bad.

I leaned back in the armchair, glancing once more at the door Blaise had left through. There were still a lot of unanswered questions swirling in my head, but for now, I had a job to do.

About an hour had passed, and Lena had fallen asleep on the couch, her small form curled up under a blanket, still clutching her stuffed rabbit.

I sat in the armchair, watching the little girl sleep, wondering when Blaise would be back. Babysitting wasn't as hard as I thought, but it wasn't exactly something I wanted to make a habit of, either.

Just as I was beginning to doze off myself, there was a soft knock at the door. I stood up quietly, careful not to wake Lena, and made my way to the door. When I opened it, Blaise was standing there, looking slightly disheveled, but relieved.

"Hey," she said softly, stepping inside. "Thanks for this, Miles. Really, you're a lifesaver."

I nodded, closing the door behind her. "No problem. Lena was easy, she's already asleep." I gestured to the couch, where her little sister was still soundly sleeping.

Blaise smiled warmly as she looked at her sister, then back at me. "Good. I knew she'd be no trouble."

There was a brief pause before I crossed my arms and gave her a look. "So, how did you know where I lived?" It had been bothering me ever since she showed up. We barely knew each other, and I hadn't exactly handed out my address.

Blaise smirked slightly, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and mystery. "I have my ways."

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely satisfied with that answer. "Your ways?"

She shrugged, clearly avoiding the subject. "Let's just say I did my research."

I let out a small huff, deciding not to push it, but it still nagged at me. "Okay, fine. But what about tonight? Why did you need a last-minute babysitter? What happened?"

At that, her expression changed. The playful glint in her eyes faded, replaced by something more guarded. She shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. "It's... complicated."

I frowned, sensing she didn't want to talk about it. But after going through all this trouble, I wasn't about to just let her brush it off that easily. "Complicated how?" I pressed gently. "Blaise, you show up at my apartment out of nowhere, drop off your sister, and then disappear for hours. I think I deserve at least a little bit of an explanation."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, clearly weighing whether to tell me anything. After a moment, she shook her head. "It's not something I want to get into right now. Just... some personal stuff I had to handle."

I could tell from the way she spoke that pushing her wouldn't get me anywhere. She was closed off, and I wasn't going to force her to explain something she wasn't ready to share. But still, it left me with more questions than answers.

"Alright," I said quietly, backing off for now. "But if you ever do want to talk, I'm here. Just... let me know next time you need help. Maybe give me a heads-up."

Blaise smiled again, this time more softly, and nodded. "I appreciate that, Miles. And I will, I promise."

She moved over to the couch and gently scooped Lena into her arms, careful not to wake her. As she stood, holding her sister close, she glanced back at me, her expression unreadable.

"Thanks again, Miles. Really." There was something in her voice that sounded almost vulnerable, a side of Blaise I hadn't seen before.

I watched as she walked toward the door, her little sister still fast asleep in her arms. "Anytime," I replied, meaning it.

With one last nod, Blaise stepped out into the night, and the door clicked shut behind her. I stood there for a moment, listening to the silence that settled over the apartment. Whatever Blaise had been dealing with, it was clear it wasn't something she wanted to share. But now, more than ever, I felt like there was a lot more to her than I'd originally thought.

I headed back to the couch and sat down, the faint hum of the TV still in the background. As much as I wanted to know what was really going on, I knew I'd have to wait. For now, it was enough to know that she trusted me—enough to leave her sister in my care, even if she wasn't ready to tell me why.