Chapter 37

The night settled around them quietly.

Not heavy.

Not tense.

Just… soft.

The apartment lights were dim, casting a warm glow across the room.

Outside, the city had slowed into a distant hum, like everything was gently stepping back to give them space.

In the kitchen,

Zivah stood by the counter, crushing fresh mint leaves between her fingers.

The familiar scent filled the air.

Calming.

Routine.

Care.

She poured the water slowly, added slices of apple, stirred it once,
then paused.

Her expression shifted slightly.

“…she teased me,” she muttered under her breath.

But there was no real annoyance in it.

Just a small pout that refused to leave.

She picked up the glass anyway and walked into the room,

placing it neatly on the side table beside Eraya’s side of the bed.

Without waiting,
she slipped under the blanket.

Turned to her side.

Back facing the washroom door.

A few minutes later,
the soft sound of the washroom door opening filled the room.

Eraya stepped out, drying her hands lightly.

Her face calm.

She paused when she saw Zivah already in bed.

A small smile formed.

“You slept without me?”

No response.

Eraya raised a brow slightly.

Walked closer.

“Zivah?”

Still nothing.

She leaned slightly over the bed, peeking at her face.

“Are you actually sleeping?”

Zivah shifted.

Just a little.

“…no.”

Eraya chuckled softly.

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

A pause.

Then, without turning,

Zivah said flatly,

“I’m mad.”

Eraya blinked.

Then smiled wider.

“Why?”

“You teased me.”

The pout was very clear in her voice now.

Eraya laughed under her breath.

“That’s why you’re mad?”

“Yes.”

“That’s such a small thing.”

“It’s not small.”

Eraya shook her head, amused.

“Okay… then what should I do?”

There was a brief silence.

Then suddenly,

Zivah turned.

And before Eraya could react,

she grabbed her wrist,
gently but firmly,
and pulled her down onto the bed.

Right into her arms.

“Stay here,” Zivah murmured.

Eraya let out a soft laugh as she fell slightly against her.

“Zivah-“

“Also,” Zivah added, frowning lightly,

“remove this.”

She reached over,
picked up Brownie,
and placed the teddy aside with zero hesitation.

Eraya stared at her.

“…you just kicked Brownie out.”

“Yes.”

“That’s rude.”

“He started it.”

Eraya laughed again.

“You’re jealous of a teddy.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Zivah narrowed her eyes slightly.

“…fine. Maybe a little.”

Eraya smiled softly.

“A little?”

“…okay a lot.”

That made Eraya laugh properly this time.

The kind that came freely.

Without restraint.

And Zivah,

went still.

Because that sound,
that laugh,
it did something to her every time.

“…I like that,” she murmured.

Eraya blinked.

“What?”

“That laugh.”

Her voice had softened now.

Completely.

“It’s my favorite.”

Eraya’s expression changed slightly.

Softened.

She shifted just a little closer.

Without realizing.

Zivah adjusted her hold instinctively,
one arm around her back,
the other resting lightly at her waist.

Comfortable.

Natural.

“Tell me about today,” Zivah said quietly.

Eraya smiled faintly.

“It was… really nice.”

Zivah watched her.

“The nursery?”

Eraya nodded.

“Yes… the plants, the colors… Shivi talking nonstop, Anu laughing at her, and you-“

She paused.

Zivah tilted her head slightly.

“And me?”

Eraya looked at her.

“You explaining everything.”

A small silence followed.

“I liked that,” Eraya added softly.

Zivah’s lips curved faintly.

“You like when I talk about plants?”

“I like when you talk.”

That landed.

Zivah didn’t respond immediately.

She just looked at her,
like she was trying to memorize something.

Then slowly,
very gently,
she leaned forward.

And pressed a soft kiss to Eraya’s forehead.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

A pause.

Then,

“I love you.”

Eraya froze.

Completely.

Her breath caught.

Her eyes widened slightly.

And her cheeks,
flushed instantly.

Zivah pulled back just enough to see her face,
and then,

she laughed.

“…you blush so easily.”

Eraya frowned slightly.

“Zivah-“

Before she could finish,

Zivah leaned in again.

This time,

a quick, soft kiss to her cheek.

Then another.

Eraya blinked.

“…you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Yes.”

“…why?”

Zivah smiled.

“Because I like seeing this.”

Eraya narrowed her eyes slightly.

Trying to stay serious.

Failing.

“…you’re annoying.”

“And you love me.”

A pause.

Eraya looked at her.

Really looked.

Then,
very softly,

“I do.”

Zivah’s expression stilled.

“…say that again.”

Eraya smiled faintly.

“I love you too.”

This time,
Zivah didn’t laugh.

Didn’t tease.

She just,

pulled her closer.

Held her tighter.

As if something inside her had finally settled.

“Say it again tomorrow,” she murmured against her hair.

Eraya smiled into her shoulder.

“Maybe.”

“Eraya-“

“Okay, okay… I will.”

Zivah huffed lightly.

“Good.”

A quiet moment followed.

The kind that didn’t need words.

Their breaths slowly syncing.

Their closeness no longer surprising.

Just… right.

And somewhere beside them,
Brownie lay abandoned on the edge of the bed.

Eraya noticed.

“Zivah.”

“What?”

“You kicked Brownie out.”

“He deserved it.”

Eraya laughed softly.

“Tomorrow I’m bringing him back.”

Zivah tightened her hold slightly.

“…no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Eraya smiled against her.

“Let’s see.”

Zivah didn’t argue further.

Because right now,

she had her.

And that,
was more than enough.

“Goodnight, Eraya,” she whispered again.

Eraya closed her eyes.

“Goodnight…”

And wrapped safely in each other,
they fell asleep.

Soft.

Warm.

And a little bit in love with everything in between.

Morning came softly.

Not with alarms.

Not with rush.

But with light, gentle sunlight slipping through the curtains, stretching across the bed, warming the empty space Zivah reached for instinctively.

Her hand landed on nothing.

Zivah frowned.

Still half asleep, she blinked slowly, adjusting to the quiet.

“…Eraya?”

No response.

She pushed herself up, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep.

There was something oddly immediate about the absence, like the room itself felt slightly off without her.

“…why does she always wake up before me,” she muttered, dragging her feet toward the door.

She stepped out,

and paused.

The balcony door was open.

And there,

stood Eraya.

Bathed in morning light.

Her hair loose, slightly tousled from sleep. The soft cotton of her clothes catching the breeze. One hand holding a small watering can, the other gently brushing the leaves of the plant.

The Kalanchoe.

Zivah didn’t say anything for a moment.

She just… watched.

Because there was something about this,
Eraya standing there so quietly, so peacefully,
that made her chest feel full in a way she didn’t want to interrupt.

Then, slowly,
she walked forward.

No noise.
No warning.

And wrapped her arms around Eraya from behind.

Eraya stilled instantly.

Just for a second.

Her fingers tightening slightly around the watering can,
her breath catching,

And then,

she relaxed.

Completely.

Like her body had already learned the difference between fear and this.

“…good morning,” Zivah murmured softly against her shoulder.

Eraya smiled faintly.

“Good morning.”

Zivah rested her chin lightly against her shoulder, peeking at what she was doing.

“What are you doing?”

Eraya shrugged gently.

“Watering Kiki.”

Zivah froze.

“…watering what?”

Eraya blinked, confused by the tone.

“Kiki.”

Zivah pulled back slightly.

“…Kiki?”

Eraya nodded, completely serious.

“Yes.”

A pause.

Zivah stared at the plant.

Then at Eraya.

Then back at the plant.

“…you named the plant.”

Eraya smiled softly.

“Yes.”

“What kind of name is Kiki?”

Eraya tilted her head slightly.

“A cute one.”

Zivah narrowed her eyes.

“…you gave the plant a nickname.”

Eraya nodded again.

“Yes.”

Zivah crossed her arms now.

“Interesting.”

Eraya blinked.

“What?”

Zivah leaned slightly closer.

“Everything gets a nickname.”

A pause.

“…except me.”

Eraya stared at her for a second,
and then laughed.

“Oh my god-“

“I’m serious.”

“You’re jealous of a plant now?”

“I was already competing with a teddy,” Zivah pointed out.

“Now there’s a plant too.”

Eraya shook her head, smiling.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re unfair.”

“How?”

“You gave Brownie a name.”

“He’s cute.”

“You gave this plant a name.”

“She’s cute too.”

Zivah placed a hand on her chest dramatically.

“And what am I?”

Eraya looked at her.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

“…very dramatic.”

Zivah gasped.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Eraya laughed again.

“You’ll get a nickname.”

“When?”

“When the time is right.”

Zivah frowned.

“What does that even mean?”

Eraya turned back to the plant, pouring the last bit of water.

“It means… when it feels right.”

“That’s vague.”

“That’s intentional.”

Zivah followed her as she stepped back inside.

“No, tell me properly.”

Eraya placed the watering can aside, walking toward the puppy.

“You’ll know.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“It’s not supposed to be.”

Zivah groaned softly, trailing behind her like a very persistent shadow.

“Eraya.”

“Yes?”

“When is the time going to be right?”

Eraya opened the cabinet, pulling out two glasses casually.

“Maybe today.”

Zivah’s eyes lit up.

“Really?”

Eraya turned,
smiling just slightly,

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Zivah’s face dropped.

“…you’re playing with me.”

“Yes.”

“That’s cruel.”

Eraya poured water into the glasses, completely unbothered.

“You’ll survive.”

Zivah stepped closer now.

Very close.

“Tell me now.”

Eraya shook her head.

“No.”

“Eraya.”

“No.”

Zivah leaned in slightly.

“I won’t move until you tell me.”

Eraya raised a brow.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

Eraya took a slow sip of water.

Then looked at her.

“…move.”

Zivah didn’t.

Eraya stepped around her.

Zivah turned immediately, following again.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun.”

Zivah narrowed her eyes.

“You think this is fun?”

Eraya smiled softly.

“Yes.”

Zivah sighed dramatically.

“I deserve a nickname.”

“You do.”

“Then give me one.”

“Not yet.”

Zivah groaned again, leaning her head lightly against Eraya’s shoulder.

“You’re so unfair.”

Eraya laughed quietly.

“Maybe.”

Zivah stayed there for a moment.

Just leaning.

“…you called the plant Kiki.”

“Yes.”

“You could have at least tried harder.”

Eraya turned slightly.

“I like it.”

Zivah huffed.

“I don’t.”

“Good thing it’s not your name.”

“That’s exactly my problem.”

Eraya laughed again.

And just like that,
Zivah forgot what she was even arguing about.

Because that laugh,
that soft, unguarded sound,
made everything else feel small.

“…fine,” she muttered.

Eraya glanced at her.

“Fine?”

“I’ll wait.”

Eraya smiled.

“Good.”

A pause.

Zivah leaned in slightly,
just enough for her voice to soften.

“But when you say it…”

Eraya looked at her.

“…it better be perfect.”

Eraya’s eyes softened.

“…it will be.”

And something about the way she said it,
calm.
certain.

made Zivah believe her completely.

Outside
Kiki sat in the sunlight.

Inside,
Zivah followed Eraya into the kitchen again.

Still complaining.

Still waiting.

And somehow,
enjoying every second of it.

Night didn’t arrive loudly.

It slipped in quietly, like a breath exhaled after a long day.

The room was dim.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp painted everything in gold and shadows.

Outside, the sky had turned heavy, clouds gathering, thick and restless, like something waiting to break.

Eraya sat on the bed, knees pulled slightly closer, holding the glass of apple-mint water Zivah had just given her.

A few minutes ago,

Zivah had leaned in, pressed a soft kiss against her cheek,
so natural, so casual,
and then walked away to the washroom like it hadn’t just altered Eraya’s entire heartbeat.

Eraya touched her cheek unconsciously.

“…she just does that now,” she whispered to herself, a small, disbelieving smile forming.

Her fingers lingered there for a moment longer.

The warmth hadn’t faded yet.

She took a slow sip of the drink.

The coolness grounding.

The mint calming.

And then,

A loud crack of thunder tore through the sky.

The glass stilled in her hand.

Her breath hitched.

Another rumble followed,

deeper this time.

Closer.

And just like that,
the present blurred.

The room.

The light.

The warmth.

All slipped away.

And she was the little terrified girl again.

Rain.

Cold.

Unforgiving.

The ground soaked beneath her knees.

Her hands trembling as she tried to shake her mother awake.

“…maa…”

No response.

Her father lying a few feet away,

still.

Too still.

The thunder echoing in the sky,

mirroring the chaos inside her chest.

Her small voice breaking,
calling.
begging.
waiting,
but no one ever answered.

Back in the room,
the glass slipped slightly in her grip.

Her chest tightened.

She couldn’t breathe properly.

Another thunderclap.

And tears,
quiet at first,
then unstoppable,
slipped down her face.

Her shoulders trembled.

“I… I don’t-“

She didn’t even know what she was trying to say.

Her body had already gone into that familiar panic,
the kind she never learned how to stop.

The kind she only endured.

The washroom door opened.

Zivah stepped out, drying her hands,
and paused.
Instantly.

Because she saw it.

The way Eraya was sitting,
frozen.
The glass untouched now.
Her hands trembling.
Her breathing uneven.

And her eyes,
glassy.
Lost somewhere far away.

Zivah didn’t ask.

She knew the panic.

“Eraya-“

She crossed the room in seconds.

No hesitation.

No pause.

And the moment Eraya saw her,
really saw her,

something inside her broke.

She stood abruptly,
almost stumbling,
and threw herself into Zivah’s arms.

Like she needed her.

Like she depended on her.

Her fingers clutching onto her clothes tightly,
as if letting go wasn’t an option.

Zivah held her immediately.

Firm.
Steady.

“It’s okay… it’s okay, I’m here-“

Eraya shook her head against her shoulder, sobs escaping now-raw, uncontrolled.

“No… no… I-“

Her words broke between breaths.

Zivah’s heart ached.

Deeply.

She tightened her hold, one hand pressing gently at the back of her head, the other rubbing slow circles across her back.

“Hey… look at me-“

But Eraya didn’t.

She just held on tighter.

Another thunder echoed.

And Eraya flinched violently.

“I’m here,” Zivah whispered quickly, more urgently now.

“I’m right here, Eraya. It’s just thunder, nothing’s going to happen, you’re safe-“

Safe.

That word felt unfamiliar.

But in her arms,
it almost made sense.

Eraya’s voice came out broken,
small.

“Don’t… don’t go…”

Zivah’s breath stilled.

“I won’t.”

“…please…” Eraya spoke again not believing.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Eraya clutched her tighter.

And then,
through her trembling breath,
soft, barely audible,

“Zivi… stay here… please…”

Zivah froze.

Everything stilled.

The world.

The thunder.

The room.

Just that word,

Zivi.

Soft.

Trusting.

Like it had always belonged to her.

Zivah’s throat tightened.

Her arms instinctively wrapped tighter around Eraya.

“I’m here,” she whispered again, voice softer now, deeper.

“I’ll always stay… Zivi’s not going anywhere.”

Eraya’s breathing slowly began to settle.

Not fully.

But enough.

Enough for her to stop shaking so violently.

Zivah leaned down,
and kissed her forehead.

A slow, lingering touch.

“I’ve got you…”

Minutes passed.

Zivah didn’t move.

Didn’t loosen her hold.

She just stayed there,
stroking her hair.

Letting her cry.

Letting her breathe.

Until,
slowly,
Eraya’s grip softened.

Her sobs faded.

Her breathing evened out.

And her head grew heavier against Zivah’s shoulder.

“She fell asleep…” Zivah whispered softly, almost to herself.

Carefully,
so carefully,
she shifted.

Guiding Eraya back onto the bed.

Adjusting the pillow.
Pulling the blanket over her.

Her fingers lingered at her cheek for a moment, brushing away the dried tear tracks.

Then she lay down beside her.

Close.

One arm slipping under her head.
The other resting protectively over her.

Eraya instinctively moved closer.

Even in sleep.

Zivah smiled faintly.

Her fingers returned to her hair,
slowly stroking.

And then,
very quietly,
she whispered,

“…Zivi.”

The name lingered in the air.

Soft.
Sacred.

She let out a small breath.

“It’s perfect.”

Her voice held something deeper now.

Something full.

“I didn’t think… anyone could ever say my name like that.”

A pause.

Her gaze softened as she looked at Eraya’s sleeping face.

“…like I belong to them.”

She leaned forward,
pressing another soft kiss to her forehead.

“I love you.”

The words came easier now.

Natural.
Certain.

And this time,
she didn’t feel afraid saying them.

Because even if Eraya hadn’t said it tonight, even if she never did,

Zivah knew.

She felt it.

In the way she held her.

In the way she said Zivi.

That was enough.

Zivah pulled her just a little closer.

Holding her like something precious.

Like something she would never let break again.

Outside,
the thunder slowly faded.

Inside,
wrapped in quiet warmth,

Zivah closed her eyes.

And slept.

With Eraya safe in her arms.

Morning arrived quietly,

like it didn’t want to disturb what the night had carefully stitched back together.

Soft sunlight slipped through the curtains, resting gently over the bed, over tangled sheets, over stillness… over them.

Zivah woke up first.

Not suddenly.
Not startled.

Just… slowly.

Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light, and the first thing she became aware of wasn’t the room.

It was the weight in her arms.

Warm.
Familiar.

Eraya.

Still asleep.

Curled slightly into her, like sometime in the night she had instinctively moved closer, like her body had decided this is safe even before her mind could catch up.

Zivah didn’t move.

She just… looked at her.

Really looked.

Her hair scattered softly across the pillow, a few strands falling over her face.

Her lashes resting against her cheeks. The faint trace of yesterday still lingering, tiredness, maybe, but softened now by sleep.

Peaceful.

Zivah’s breath slowed.

“…how do you even exist like this,” she whispered, almost inaudible.

Her fingers moved without asking for permission,
tracing the outline of Eraya’s cheek lightly.

Not enough to wake her.
Just enough to feel her there.

“So calm… so quiet…”

A small smile tugged at her lips.

“…and somehow you still manage to make my entire world loud.”

She brushed a strand of hair away from Eraya’s face.

“You’re… mesmerizing.”

The word left her softly, but it stayed heavy in the air.

Zivah exhaled slowly.

“…and god I’m so lucky.”

Her thumb rested near Eraya’s jaw.

“Do you even know that?”

Of course, she didn’t.

Eraya was still asleep.

But Zivah said it anyway.

“Do you know how lucky I am that I get to wake up and see this… every day?”

Her gaze softened further.

“…that I get to hold you like this… and you don’t pull away anymore…”

A small pause.

“And that you called me-“

Her lips curved again.

“…Zivi.”

The name lingered.

Zivah’s eyes closed briefly as she let herself feel it again.

“…I think I’m never recovering from that.”

She let out a quiet laugh.

“Do you even understand what you did to me with that one word?”

No answer.

Just the steady rise and fall of Eraya’s breathing.

Zivah leaned slightly closer.

“…say it again when you wake up,” she whispered, almost like a request she wasn’t sure she was allowed to make.

And as if the universe decided she had said enough,

Eraya stirred.

Just a little.

Her brows furrowed faintly, her lashes fluttering,
and slowly,
her eyes opened.

For a second,
she looked confused.

And then,
she saw Zivah.

Already looking at her.

A soft smile formed instantly.

“…you’re staring again,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

Zivah didn’t even try to deny it.

“I always stare.”

Eraya’s smile widened slightly.

“Creepy.”

“Honest.”

Eraya chuckled quietly.

A small silence settled,
comfortable.

Then, after a moment, her expression softened slightly.

“…did I trouble you last night?”

The question came carefully.

Like she was unsure if she should even ask.

Zivah’s brows immediately pulled together.

“What?”

Eraya shifted slightly in her hold.

“I mean… I- I panicked and… I-“

Before she could finish,
Zivah leaned forward,
and pressed a gentle kiss to her nose.

Eraya blinked.

“Don’t say that again,” Zivah said softly, but firmly.

Eraya looked at her.

“You’re never a trouble.”

Her voice dropped slightly.

“…you’re my love.”

The words settled deeply.

Eraya’s breath hitched, just a little.

Her cheeks flushed faintly.

Zivah’s grip around her tightened slightly.

Like she needed to hold onto that moment just a little longer.

Then,
Eraya glanced toward the window.

“…it’s late.”

Zivah immediately frowned.

“No.”

Eraya raised a brow.

“…what do you mean no?”

“I mean no.”

Eraya tried to sit up slightly,
but Zivah tightened her hold instantly, pulling her back down.

“Zivah-“

“No.”

“Please.”

“…that doesn’t change anything.”

Eraya laughed.

“It clearly does.”

Zivah narrowed her eyes slightly.

“…don’t use it to manipulate me.”

“I’m not manipulating you.”

“You are.”

Eraya smiled softly.

“We should get up.”

“No.”

“Zivah-“

“I want to stay like this.”

Her voice softened now.

“…just a little longer.”

Eraya’s expression changed.

Something in her chest warmed quietly.

“…why?”

Zivah looked at her,
no hesitation.

“Because I like this.”

A pause.

“I like waking up and finding you here.”

Her hand brushed gently against Eraya’s arm.

“I like holding you and knowing you won’t disappear when I open my eyes.”

Her voice dropped further.

“…and I like that you don’t feel like you have to run away anymore.”

Silence.

Soft.
Deep.

Eraya didn’t argue this time.

She just… stayed.

Relaxing back into her.

“…okay,” she whispered.

Zivah smiled.

Victory.

A few seconds passed.

Then,
Eraya spoke again.

“…but only five minutes.”

Zivah groaned softly.

“Why are you like this?”

“Because we have a life.”

“This is my life.”

Eraya laughed again.

“You’re dramatic.”

“And you love it.”

Eraya didn’t deny it.

Instead,
she shifted slightly closer.

Resting her head more comfortably against Zivah.

And Zivah,
tightened her hold again.

Neither of them said anything after that.

Because they didn’t need to.

The morning stretched around them.

Soft.
Warm.

And for once,

neither of them felt the need to rush out of it.

“Five minutes,” Eraya reminded softly.

Zivah closed her eyes.

“…we’ll see.”
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