Then she laid his head back onto the pillows, the soft surface cradling him as if he had melted into it. There was a calmness to the way he slept, his face relaxed and serene, the quiet stillness of the moment filling the space between them.
Arya took a step back, smoothing his hands gently at his sides. Her gaze softened as she studied him. There was something about the way he looked when he was peaceful—almost fragile, yet beautiful.
A small smile tugged at her lips. She hadn’t always appreciated the way he slept so haphazardly, but now, the act of making him comfortable, of arranging him the way she wanted, felt almost satisfying.
Her phone came out almost instinctively, capturing the moment in a quick photo. She couldn’t help but smile, knowing this quiet moment was just one of many that had made him hers.
With one final look, she gently pulled the bedspread over him, tucking it in with care. The soft rustle of the fabric settled around him, and Arya stood there for a moment longer, watching him breathe.
“I love you.”
*
The sound of the alarm rang out. Arya blinked a few times, turning off the alarm on her phone and switching on the bedside lamp. She sat up in bed, her chest bare, and glanced to her side to find Alwin still fast asleep, lying in the exact position she had arranged him in the night before.
He remained on his back, his head propped slightly higher than his body. Not a single thing had shifted—not his posture, not even the position of the blanket.
He had slept well.
Arya turned her gaze to Alwin and gently stroked his head. Her fingers trailed down to his eyes, his nose, and finally his lips. His face looked so smooth, so delicate. He was beautiful—captivating in a way that made her heart ache. Waking up to such a sight was an indescribable pleasure.
A smile crept across her face once again.
She exhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing pulse. Her emotions were surging uncontrollably, like waves crashing relentlessly against the shore. It was then she realized what she was feeling—she was utterly, hopelessly in love.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the figure beside her, unable to pull away from his magnetic presence. She wanted this feeling to last forever, to never lose the person who filled her world with such profound joy. Let this happiness last, she thought silently.
Ah, it was time for Alwin to take his morning dose of medicine.
Arya reached for the key she had hidden near the bed, unlocking the drawer on the nightstand. From it, she retrieved a small packet labeled in her handwriting: AM —his morning and midday dosage. She emptied its contents into her palm, then grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the nightstand. Moving closer to where Alwin lay, she sat down by his head.
Again, Arya found herself smiling, simply at the thought of what she was about to do.
With her left hand, she gently pressed on Alwin's chin to open his mouth, carefully slipping the pills inside one by one. Unscrewing the cap of the water bottle, she took a small sip herself before leaning down.
Her lips captured his, and her right hand pinched his nose lightly between her thumb and forefinger. She let the water flow from her mouth into his, coaxing it down his throat.
A soft choking sound escaped from Alwin. His body jerked slightly, instinctively resisting, but Arya steadied his shoulders with a gentle touch, keeping him calm. Reflexively, his lips pressed back against hers.
“Nghh…” came a muffled gasp as he struggled.
Alwin’s breaths grew shallow as Arya continued to block his nose, her lips sealing his completely. The only way for him to breathe was through her, and in his half-conscious state, he instinctively began to drink in everything she offered, desperate and uncoordinated.
Arya used this moment to ensure he swallowed the water and pills, and she succeeded.
“Nggghh… uhuk… uhuk…”
Arya finally pulled back, satisfied that the medicine and water had been consumed. She looked down at Alwin with a soft, triumphant smile.
“Good boy,” she praised, her voice full of affection.
Alwin frowned, coughing as he struggled to regain his breath.
"I just gave you your morning meds," Arya explained casually, leaning back on the bed.
Before Alwin could respond, his phone alarm blared—a reminder for his scheduled medication. Still coughing, he reached for his phone and silenced it with a swipe.
"You could’ve just woken me up, you know," he muttered hoarsely, irritation lacing his voice.
"I could’ve," Arya replied with a smirk, her tone mimicking Alwin’s exact words from the day before, when he had startled her by showing up unannounced at the basecamp at the crack of dawn. "But why should I?"
"Tch! Freak," Alwin spat, wiping the lingering water from his lips with the back of his hand.
Arya laughed, the sound light and teasing, before hopping out of bed. She strolled toward the wardrobe, pulling out a sleeveless shirt.
"I'm going for a jog. Wanna come?"
"No."
"Cool." Arya shrugged, slipping the shirt on over her head. As she moved toward the door, she added, "Call me if you need anything. Oh, and I’m locking you in from the outside."
"Wait, what?" Alwin sat up, glaring at her.
Arya ignored his protest, closing the door behind her with a loud click. The unmistakable sound of the lock turning twice echoed through the room.
"Hey!" Alwin's voice was muffled behind the door, but Arya only chuckled to herself as she jogged down the hallway.
*
It seemed she couldn’t jog with a clear conscience while knowing she’d locked Alwin in his room. Perhaps tomorrow, she’d force him to join her. Yes, that sounded like a better plan.
Arya returned to the basecamp, slipping off her shoes and socks before neatly placing them in the shoe cabinet. She headed to the bathroom for a quick rinse, washing her face, hands, and feet. Then, with a touch of urgency, she made her way to her room, fishing the key out of the pocket of her workout pants.
She went straight to the door and unlocked it.
As Arya pushed the door open, the acrid scent of cigarette smoke hit her immediately. Her gaze fell on Alwin, sprawled on the cold floor with a cigarette loosely balanced between his lips. Lazy spirals of smoke drifted toward the ceiling, perfectly matching the vacant expression on his face.
Leaning against the doorframe, Arya crossed her arms. “Found my stash, huh?”
“Mmyeah,” Alwin mumbled, not bothering to turn his head. The words came out slightly muffled, his lips barely moving around the cigarette.
The room reeked of tobacco now—a stark contrast to the morning air Arya had just breathed in during her jog. She stepped inside, her bare feet quiet against the floor, stopping to stand directly over Alwin. Her feet were planted near his sides, just under his outstretched arms.
“Didn’t know you smoked,” she said, crouching down, her face hovering just above his.
“Only when I’m bored,” he replied flatly, finally taking the cigarette out of his mouth to exhale a cloud of smoke that lingered in the air between them. “Someone locked me in here, after all. No books, no TV, not even a bathroom. Just me and a pack of cigs. What else was I supposed to do?”
