Adrian insisted on planning the day.
"No arguing," he'd said the night before, voice crackling through the phone with all the energy of someone ready to drag her into a new adventure. "Just you, me, and something irresponsibly sugary."
She had smiled then — not one of those polite, tired smiles, but a small real one.And now, standing outside the mall as he jogged up to her, waving like a kid on a sugar rush, she felt it again — that strange little flutter she wasn't sure what to do with.
Adrian was already waiting when she arrived at the mall entrance, leaning against a pillar in a way that looked effortless but probably took five minutes of practice. His smile was polished, as usual — like he knew how charming it was.
"There you are," he said, holding out a hand that she took automatically. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."
She let out a chuckle. "First date. Don't flatter yourself. I just took the scenic route."
"More scenic than me?" Adrian smirked.
"Definitely!"
His smile reminded her of someone. Someone she shouldn't remember. But that someone is who she couldn't forget.
They walked through the glass doors, past window displays and idle chatter, their footsteps matching in rhythm if not always in purpose.
The mall was half-empty — a weekday perk. They strolled without aim, stopping by bookshops and odd little stores filled with scented candles and overpriced plush toys. Adrian bought her a tiny frog keychain from a vending machine. It had no reason to exist, and she adored it instantly.
"Looks like you," he said, grinning.
"Are you calling me squishy or chaotic?"
"Both." he answered.
She rolled her eyes, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. He always had this way of teasing her that wasn't cruel — just a little ridiculous, which made her heart skip a beat.
They wandered through shops and corners of the mall that smelled like sugar and nostalgia. Adrian was full of loud commentary, making her laugh at things she wouldn't have noticed alone. He held up matching sunglasses and demanded they try them. She didn't resist. The pictures he took were blurry and silly — but she didn't delete them.
They drifted in and out of shops — the kind of stores that sold things no one really needed but everyone somehow wanted. A vintage toy shop caught Adrian's eye. He dragged her in, marveling over old Gameboys and bobblehead figures.
"You know," he said, holding up a dusty Pikachu keychain, "if I was a cartoon, I'd probably be this guy. Look at him. Small. Chaotic. But lovable."
Althea leaned in. "You're right about the chaotic part."
He grinned and dropped the keychain into the cashier's hand, then turned and offered it to her. "For you again, ma'am. A reminder of me when I'm not around."
She took it, fingers brushing his for a moment too long. "You're not dying, Adrian."
"Yeah, but I'm dramatic. Let me have this."
Althea found herself twirling the keychain absentmindedly, her smile lingering on her lips even when his eyes looked away.
He's so easy to be around, she thought, watching him talk to the cashier with that casual, magnetic charm. Too easy, sometimes.
She used to think love would come with thunder — a shiver down her spine, a gasp of something electric. But this was… quiet. Gentle. Sweet.
It feels good. To be cared for.
"Adrian... I—" Too early. She knew she shouldn't.
Adrian looked at her with a slight hum. Althea shook her head as she shook off all the thoughts. She looked down with that same smile in her lips.
They ended up outside the mall with ice cream in hand. Adrian ordered the most ridiculous and overpriced combo he could — espresso caramel crunch and sea salt brownie — while Althea stuck with strawberry, simple and safe.
She looked at him — at the way his hair curled at the ends, at the faint chocolate smudge near his cheek. At how comfortable she felt beside him.
Maybe I do like him. I think I could.
"You know," he said, licking a drip before it reached his wrist, "we're kind of good at this."
"At what? Ice cream?"
He tilted his head, half-teasing. "No. Being normal. Happy."
She smiled, small and polite. Something in her chest fluttered.
Happy. That word again.
Maybe she was. Maybe this counted. But then again, maybe she was just… good at pretending to be. And Adrian — he made it easy. He was sweet, attentive, full of gestures that just melts her heart.
But now? Sometimes it felt like she was watching their moments through a glass window. There, but not in it.
"You always go for the soft flavors," Adrian said, sitting beside her at the fountain outside the mall. "It suits you."
She tilted her head. "Soft?"
"In a good way. Comforting. Like…" He licked his spoon. "Like when you come home from a crap day, and someone left the lights on and made tea without being asked."
She blinked. That was… oddly specific. And a little too intimate.
"That's a lot of depth for a strawberry cone," she murmured.
He shrugged, eyes on the fountain. "You make simple things feel like more."
That's the kind of thing that should make my heart skip.
And maybe, somewhere in there, it did — just a little.
He says things like that and I feel… warm. Safe.
Because underneath all of this — the jokes, the keychain, the effort — there was a quiet hum in her chest she couldn't name. She felt seen. Heard. More importantly, she felt like the world was a bit lighter.
Adrian turned to her suddenly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she said, too quickly.
"You've been quiet."
"Just thinking."
"About what?"
She hesitated. "Us, maybe."
He stilled slightly but covered it with a lopsided smile. "And?"
"I don't know." She turned the keychain over in her palm. "Do you ever think… that maybe you like the idea of someone more than the person?"
Adrian frowned. "Is that what you're thinking?"
"I'm just wondering," she said. "Not everything is about us."
He chuckled softly, but his eyes searched hers like he knew she wasn't being entirely honest. "You always do that. Ask questions like you're not tangled in the middle of them."
She didn't answer.
Adrian got up from the seat and reached his hand out. "Come. Let's get your mind clear."
They walked to the nearby park afterward, silence comfortable now. Adrian kept the mood light — pointing at ducks, joking about jogging couples, laughing at a baby in sunglasses. Althea smiled. But inside, some questions kept blooming.
She blinked, and the thought vanished as Adrian looked again and grinned at her like this moment mattered.
Maybe it did. To him too.
Adrian found a bench beneath a flowering tree and flopped onto it dramatically. "This," he said, sighing, "is the life. Mall rat hours and park picnics."
"No picnic," she reminded him.
He grinned. "Only because you didn't let me bring terrible gas station snacks."
She sat beside him, staring at the sun-dappled grass ahead. For a moment, they looked like any other couple — content, easy.
Maybe liking someone could be as easy as soft laughter and melting ice cream, quiet comfort and familiarity. She liked the way Adrian made the world feel less heavy. Liked the way his words curled around her like the edge of a blanket she could tuck herself into.
Maybe that was enough.
She didn't know if it was real. But for now, she let the moment be enough.
But beneath the calm, something stirred. Something she didn't know how to name.
She glanced down at their intertwined fingers, the way they fit — like a story already told. And yet, she felt like a stranger inside that story. Like she'd walked into a scene written for someone else, lines rehearsed but not truly lived.
Was she forcing her heart to turn toward Adrian because it was easier than turning toward the unknown? Or was it just fear? Of choosing wrong? Of breaking something good? Of listening too closely to a voice inside her that kept asking: is this it? Is this really it?
She wanted it to be. She truly did.
But another part of her — the quiet, buried one that never spoke loud enough — whispered something different. It whispered of curiosity. Of something that pulled at her from the edges of her comfort. Something wild, unscripted, unfamiliar. Something that didn't come with neat answers or safe warmth, but with sharp eyes and unsettling truths.
A storm.
She didn't know then that what felt like soft ripples in her heart would soon be swallowed by it.
That the peaceful rhythm she was falling into would one day be shattered. That the soft boy with caramel smiles wouldn't be the one who unraveled her. It wouldn't be Adrian who turned her world inside out.
No — it would be something else.
Or rather, someone.
Someone who would arrive like thunder disguised as silence. Someone who wouldn't knock before entering the chapters she thought she had sealed tight. Someone who would remind her that storms didn't just break — they revealed.
A storm in the shape of a person. And her perfectly aligned story would never be the same again.
End of chapter 7.