Chapter 5: Not The Way You’re Imagining
Cassian let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "About me, huh?"
Before Leonel could reply, the waitress returned balancing their drinks. She leaned in, setting cups on the table until one tipped. Dark coffee spilled across the polished wood and splashed onto Aiden’s jeans.
"Ah, seriously?!" Aiden jumped up, chair scraping.
Both Cassian and Leonel blurted, "Are you okay?" Their voices overlapped, then clashed into silence.
Aiden blinked at them, then burst out laughing. "Relax. It’s just coffee. Not acid." He shook his head, dabbing at the stain with a napkin. "I’ll go clean this up before it sets. Don’t burn the place down without me."
Leonel half-stood. "I’ll come with-"
"Nah," Aiden cut in easily. "I’ll be back." And just like that, he disappeared toward the bathroom.
The quiet that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Cassian shifted in his seat, painfully aware he was now alone with Leonel.
The other boy leaned back, folding his arms. His stare was steady, unreadable. "So. Why do you think I’m jealous of you?"
Cassian fiddled with the spoon, buying time. "Well... you like Aiden, and I’m close to him. So I figured..." His voice cracked, trailing off.
Leonel’s eyes flickered. "It’s true I like him. But not the way you’re imagining. I respect him. Care about him. And I needed to know if you’re the manipulative type."
Cassian blinked, thrown by the unexpected honesty. Then he smiled, small but sincere. "That’s... actually sweet. Don’t worry, I’d never hurt him."
Leonel’s lips curved into that dangerous smirk. He leaned forward, his tone low, threaded with warning. "Good. Because if you ever did "
He left the sentence unfinished.
Cassian’s stomach tightened. He forced himself to take a sip of coffee, but his hands trembled.
And then, just when the silence between them reached its breaking point, Aiden’s voice carried from down the hall.
"Guys? ...There’s someone outside."
Both Cassian and Leonel turned their heads at once.
The glass front of the café revealed a figure standing beyond the window. A man, tall, wrapped in a black coat too heavy for the season. His face was shadowed beneath the brim of a hat, but Cassian swore he saw the glint of eyes staring straight at him. Not at Leonel. Not at Aiden.
At him.
The man lifted a hand slow, deliberate and pressed it against the glass.
Cassian’s blood ran cold.
Leonel’s chair scraped sharply against the floor as he stood. "Stay here," he ordered.
But Cassian already knew whatever this was, it wasn’t something you could stay out of.