Page 84 of Kai
Suddenly, the room feels smaller.
Warmer.
The lamp beside my couch casts a golden glow across the apartment, softening everything around us.
The bookshelves.
The faded throw blanket.
The family photos.
Even Kai.
Especially Kai.
“You know,” I say quietly, “you don't have to keep trying so hard. It's just fake, isn't it?”
The words are out before I can stop them.
Immediately, something changes.
His smile fades.
Not completely.
Just enough.
The teasing disappears.
Leaving something rawer behind.
More honest.
His gaze locks onto mine.
“You really think that's what I'm doing?”
My stomach twists.
“Kai—”
“You think I'm faking this?”
The question hangs between us.
Heavy.
Important.
Suddenly I can't remember why I asked.
Or maybe I can.
Maybe because I need to know.
Because somewhere along the way this stopped feeling pretend to me.
“Aren't you?” I whisper.
