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    Sienna’s POV


    49%


    My eyes were still heavy, the lids glued shut as if with wood glue. My head felt stuffed with cotton, maybe because I had stayed up toote the night before. But the sound of the doorbell kept ringing once, twice, three times-with patient, consistent persistence. I groaned softly, pulled the nket over my head, hoping whoever it was would give up.


    They didn’t. The bell rang again. And again.


    With a resigned breath, I dragged myself out of bed, shuffling toward the door like a zombie rising from its grave. My hair was no


    doubt a tangled nest, and my pajamas were far from presentable for receiving visitors.


    The moment the door opened, I froze.


    “Morning, Sienna.”


    Liam.


    He was standing there, holding tworge grocery bags that looked filled with food. But what unsettled me most was the broad


    smile on his face. A smile I had never seen before, the kind someone wears when they’ve just found a reason to live again.


    “What brings you here?” I asked immediately, still caught between dream and reality.


    “Breakfast,” he said lightly, lifting the two bags. “I know you haven’t eaten yet, right? So I brought egg and bacon sandwiches.


    Thick ones. Plus snacks, coffee, and orange juice, just in case.”


    Before I could answer or refuse, he was already stepping inside. His strides were confident, as if this were his apartment and not


    mine. I turned, bewildered, still lingering at the doorway.


    “Liam! I didn’t say you coulde in!” I called out, a few seconds toote.


    But he was already unpacking the bags on my small dining table, taking out one thing after another: two big sandwiches wrapped


    in brown paper, two bottles of juice, a carton of coffee, and some small pastries like chocte- and cheese-filled rolls.


    “Listen, I know you don’t like surprise visits,” he said as he busied himself arranging the food. “But I also know you probably skipped breakfast. So let’s just call this a morning nutrition rescue mission.”


    I just stood there, stunned, unable to process any of it.


    “Liam, I can buy my own breakfast,” I murmured.


    He turned, meeting my eyes with a smile. “But I wanted to bring it for you. So you don’t forget to eat. You don’t always have to be


    strong on your own, Sienna.”


    His words sparked something strange in my chest. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to send him away, tell him all this was too much. But the sandwiches smelled intoxicating, and my stomach growled in protest.


    11:22 AM Tue 2 Sep


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    “I’m still in pajamas,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.


    “You’re still beautiful,” he replied easily, as though the words carried no weight at all.


    I sighed, finally closing the door and walking slowly to the table. Liam was already seated, sliding one of the sandwiches toward <ol><li></li></ol>


    “Sit. Eat. You’ll faint otherwise,” he said, unwrapping his own.


    With reluctant steps, I sat down. The sandwich was massive, stuffed with an omelet, crispy bacon, melted cheese, and fresh greens. I took a tentative bite. Warm. Delicious. And annoyingly…forting.


    The apartment, usually steeped in silence, now felt crowded by his presence. A presence so vivid, so alive, it seemed to seep into every corner of the air. The smell of toasted bread, eggs, and bacon mingled with the scent of coffee, pushing out thevender


    soap from my bedroom that usually lingered through my mornings.


    Liam sat across from me, his movements calm yet deliberate. His hands moved with practiced ease as he unwrapped his meal, as if


    he had done this a hundred times before, right here. There was something unsettling about that. This tiny dining table had always


    been a space of solitude-just me and a cup of tea, sometimes a notebook, or the too-bright glow of my phone screen. Now it was


    suddenly crowded, not only with food, but with something heavier: memories, and the echoes of what we once were.


    I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart was racing too fast. How absurd, that one unexpected visit, two grocery bags, could


    alter everything. I had never asked for this. Never nned it. Yet in the quiet, I couldn’t deny that his presence made the room feel


    less cold.


    My gaze dropped to the sandwich in front of me. The brown paper wrapping was slightly oily, and the savory scent of bacon


    drifted from its folds. My stomach clenched again, reminding me how long it had been since Ist ate. Still, I resisted, letting the


    hunger serve as a shield, a way to buy time.


    My eyes roamed around the apartment-the bookshelf in the corner, the small potted nt near the window that was nearly


    withered, the in white walls. All signs of how long I had been living alone, rebuilding my rhythm without him. And now, with


    such ease, he had stepped back in, bringing food, a smile, and something that threatened to crack through the walls I’d built.


    I sped my hands in myp, trying to quiet the tremor that shouldn’t be there. A warmth crept into my chest, mixed with a


    bitterness I couldn’t name. It felt like standing on the edge of the shore-wavespping gently at my feet, but with the knowledge


    that at any moment they could pull me under.


    Liam didn’t say anything else, but his presence was loud enough. The simple way he arranged the drinks on the table felt like an intrusion, yet it stirred something inside me. I was used to silence. To the kind of quiet that sometimes felt like istion. And now,


    with just a little noise at this table, my small world seemed to pulse with life again.


    I closed my eyes for a moment, drawing in a long breath. There was a part of me that wanted to cling to distance, to the reasons why I had shut the door so tightly all this time. But there was another part-frailer, more human-that longed for even the smallest shred of togetherness.


    When I opened my eyes again, the sandwich was still there, waiting patiently, just like Liam who sat in silence, not pressing me.


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    Their presence-both the food and him-felt like a test. I swallowed hard, bracing myself for a small decision that was actually much bigger than just breakfast.


    I reached for the orange juice first, my fingers trembling slightly as they touched the chill of the stic bottle. The taste was fresh as the sweet tang slid down my throat, as though my body itself sighed in relief at finally being given something. But behind that


    freshness, another realization crept in: I was no longer alone this morning.


    “Don’t make a habit of this, Liam!” I muttered, still chewing.


    He chuckled. “This is what I want, and you don’t have the right to forbid me froming again and again.’


    I stared at him hard. His smile didn’t falter.


    That smile was infuriating. Too confident.


    “If I tell security you’re disturbing my peace, would you still say this is what you want?” I asked, leaning back into my chair, trying to mask the faint tremor in my voice-a kind of nervousness I couldn’t exin.


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