A Week After The Meeting
The past week had been a tranquil one for Altair and Cassy. There had been no more emergency alerts, no more unusual messages, and no more uncomfortable family encounters. The plan had seemingly been successful, or at least the storm had quieted for the time being.
 
Cassy's phone clock alarms at 6:00 am, a signifier that the day has started and it's time to get moving. She reaches for her phone, groggy-eyed but alert. Saturday mornings usually mean a supermarket run to replenish supplies for the week ahead. Hitting the snooze button is not an option.
 
She pulls herself out of bed and brushes her long, wavy hair, which is a shade of chestnut that catches the morning sunlight streaming through her window. Cassy chooses a casual yet stylish outfit: a simple white blouse, jean shorts, and flip-flops. Her inherent beauty doesn't require much dressing up; even in the most basic attire, she radiates a charm that's both endearing and captivating.
 
Her phone buzzes. It's a message from Altair: "Asleep already, cutie?"
 
Her heart flutters unexplainably as she types her reply. "Sneaky! I just woke up; if you're up, I'll brew some coffee now."
 
She sends the message and waits for a response, but none comes immediately. With a smile still lingering on her face, she opens her camera app and positions the phone to capture her early morning beauty. Just as she's about to press the shutter button, she hesitates.
 
"What the hell am I doing?" she mutters to herself. This isn't the first time she's found herself impulsively wanting to share a slice of her life with Altair. In fact, she had sent him morning selfies twice already, earning her the nickname "Sunshine Beauty" from him.
 
"What's happening to me?" she wonders, feeling a mix of confusion and self-awareness. The calm of the last week had allowed feelings to brew under the surface—feelings she is not yet ready to confront.
 
Cassy shuts off the camera app, her reflection on the screen looking back at her like a puzzle yet to be solved. The mystery isn't just who her stalker is or how to navigate the tension with her family—it's also how to understand the tangled feelings taking root in her own heart.
 
And so, Cassy decides that for today, the grocery store can wait a few more minutes. She sits down to collect her thoughts, each one punctuated by the unanswered questions in her mind and the unread messages on her phone.
 
What she doesn't realize yet is that Altair, too, is asking himself similar questions as his thumb hovers over the 'send' button, unsure of how to encapsulate the growing complexity of what he feels.
 
Cassy steps out of her room, still mulling over the thoughts and emotions that had abruptly colored her morning. The lounge is deserted, and the light outside promises a sunny day. She stretches her arms skyward, elongating her frame as if trying to reach for something just out of reach. Perhaps answers to the questions that keep circling in her head She gathers her long chestnut hair into a casual bun, freeing her neck from its warm tangle.
 
Walking into the kitchen, she sets the coffee pot to brew, its familiar gurgling providing a comforting soundtrack to the silence of the house. As she leans against the counter, staring into the liquid depths of the soon-to-be coffee, she hears the sound of footsteps descending from upstairs.
 
Allaine appears at the staircase, shuffling her way down in white pajamas that make her look angelic despite the sleep-streaked mascara. Her hair is a complete and utter disaster, falling in chaotic strands that frame her face like a modern art piece.
 
"Hey, big sis, good morning!" Cassy greets her, pulling her thoughts away from Altair and the fluttering uncertainties of the morning.
 
Allaine lands on the couch, sinking into the plush cushions as if they were the softest thing she's encountered in years. A yawn escapes her lips, long and uninhibited, a testament to how desperately she needs a few more hours of sleep.
 
"Good morning, baby girl," Allaine replies, her voice laden with grogginess.
 
Cassy chuckles at her sister's sleepy demeanor, taking a mental note to let her rest after what seems like a long night.
 
"You have work today, sis?" Cassy inquires.
 
"I have to check the office. I forgot something there," Allaine responds, rubbing her temples as if that would magically summon more energy.
 
Just then, another set of footsteps can be heard from the upper floor. Cassy's heart jumps a little as Altair descends the stairs, fresh-faced and carrying an aura of morning energy. He's dressed in a gray hoodie and matching shorts, looking comfortably laid-back. His hair is still wet from what seems like a recent shower.
 
"You're looking adorable today, Cassy," Altair chimes in as he enters the lounge.
 
The impact of his words is immediate. Cassy feels her cheeks flush a vibrant shade of pink, and her heart is a frenetic drumline in her chest.
 
"Good morning," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper as she tries to compose herself.
 
Altair takes a seat near Allaine, who's now using every ounce of her willpower not to doze off.
 
"It's Saturday today; are you going somewhere?" Altair asks, his eyes meeting Cassy's in a way that makes her feel both seen and overwhelmingly self-conscious.
 
"I'm off to the supermarket later; I'm almost out of supplies," Cassy manages to reply, hoping her voice sounds more stable than she feels.
 
"How about you? It looks like you're heading out." Cassy ventures, shifting the focus to Altair, who seems so in control compared to her tumultuous emotions.
 
"I will need to go out; I have to either buy a new phone or get this repaired," Altair says, showing Cassy a phone with a screen shattered so extensively that it looks like a spiderweb made of broken dreams.
 
Cassy's eyes widen in genuine concern, and she can't help but ask, "What happened?"
 
"It slipped from my hand, and I stepped on it," Altair replies with a casualness that belies the severity of the phone's condition.
 
As this conversation unfolds, Allaine, clearly losing the battle against sleep, leans her weight against Altair and rests her head on his shoulder. Altair stiffens, clearly caught off guard by the sudden intimacy, and is met with Cassy's raised eyebrows and crossed arms.
 
"Are you sure that's what happened? I need to sleep 5 more minutes, please," Allaine pleads, her voice a melodic lullaby of exhaustion.
 
"Why are you sleeping on my shoulder?" Altair inquires, trying to shift his body subtly.
"Don't be weird, man; I'm just napping," Allaine says. "What are the three things you're grateful for today?"
 
For context, Allaine often moonlights as Altair's makeshift therapist, posing introspective questions meant to unearth layers of the subconscious. But right now, Cassy feels like she's the one who needs a therapist to sort out the rush of irritation flaring within her. She occupies the couch across from Altair and Allaine, sips her coffee, and almost slams the cup onto the table with more force than she intended.
 
"That's bitter," Cassy comments, though whether she's talking about the coffee or her feelings, even she isn't sure.
 
Altair turns back to Allaine, who's hovering between the realms of sleep and wakefulness. "I barely started my day. Why are you asking me that?"
 
"Come on, one of those things has to be staring at Cassy in the morning, right?" Allaine says, her voice tinged with both teasing and tiredness.
 
Cassy's irritation continues to fester as she gazes at Allaine, whose head is still comfortably lodged on Altair's shoulder. Yet a new sensation stirs within her—butterflies taking flight in her stomach at Allaine's insinuation.
 
"Hello? What are the other two things you're grateful for today?" Allaine presses on, lifting her head slightly to make sure Altair hears her.
 
"Being able to ogle at Cassy, I get it. What are the other two?" Allaine continues, her voice a mix of sincerity and sleep-induced haze.
 
The tension in the room is palpable; each individual is lost in their own swirl of thoughts, questions, and emotions. The morning has become a stage for unspoken feelings and half-acknowledged truths, all circling around a broken phone and a shattered sense of normalcy.
 
"Being able to wake up early, clean my room, and take a refreshing bath," Altair answers Allaine's persistent question, each word punctuated with a subtle nuance of revelation.
 
"See? Was that so hard?" Allaine retorts, standing up and meandering toward the coffee pot.
 
Cassy tilts her head, catching the significant omission in Altair's list. He'd given two things, conveniently avoiding further elaboration on the first one, namely, his opportunity to 'ogle at Cassy.'
 
"Hey," Cassy calls out, managing to sound curious rather than self-conscious.
 
Allaine chuckles as she saunters back, her mug steaming with fresh brew, and nudges Cassy from her position on the couch.
 
"Sit there," Allaine instructs, gesturing toward the space next to Altair.
 
"Sis!" Cassy protests, her voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and resignation.
 
"Come on, Cassy, if you can't sit next to your husband, how will you ever convince your detractors?" Allaine challenges, a knowing look in her eyes.
 
Reluctantly, Cassy takes a seat beside Altair.
 
"Closer," Allaine directs, and Cassy complies, shifting closer until they're almost elbow to elbow. Altair, for his part, endeavors to keep his facial expression neutral, but the hint of a smile teases the corners of his lips.
 
"Act naturally, you two," Allaine commands, settling back into her own seat with an air of satisfaction.
 
As if on cue, Priscilla emerges from her room, dressed in a laid-back hoodie and oversized sunglasses, the epitome of casual glamour.
 
"Good morning, Laine. Good morning, lovebirds!" Priscilla chirps, striding to the kitchen bar and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She then takes a seat beside Allaine, exuding an effortless cool that somehow makes even morning coffee seem glamorous.
 
"Where are you off to, Pris?" Cassy inquires, her gaze shifting from her mysterious sister to the steaming mug in her hand.
 
"My mentor misses me; I'm meeting him later," Priscilla replies, taking a delicate sip of her coffee, as if each drop were a secret whispered between old friends.
 
The room is now a canvas painted with complicated emotions, subtle innuendos, and brewing curiosities. Cassy feels her heart race slightly as she sits next to Altair. It's an emotion she can't quite place—a hybrid of confusion, excitement, and something entirely else, all mingling in the hollow space between them.
 
"How about you two? Planning to go on an actual date today?" Priscilla asks, her voice laced with playful curiosity.
 
"That would be a wonderful idea, Pris. Why don't you two go out today? You both have errands to run," Allaine chimes in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
 
"What do you mean by that?" Cassy inquires, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regards her sister.
 
"Well, Altair needs to buy a new phone, and you need to restock supplies from the supermarket. So why not both of you head to the mall together?" Allaine suggests, the corners of her mouth lifting into a self-satisfied grin.
 
"I'm a genius!" Priscilla exclaims, raising her coffee mug as if toasting her own brilliance.
 
"Uhm," Cassy hesitates, her eyes darting between her sisters and Altair. A sudden torrent of emotions crashes over her, each wave leaving her more unsure than the last. Should she? Could she? The weight of the decision sits heavily on her, almost suffocating her in its intensity. The prospect of spending exclusive time with Altair brings a blend of excitement and apprehension, a cocktail she hasn't tasted before.
 
Finally, Altair breaks the silence, his voice steady but soft. "It's fine; Cassy might not be comfortable with this kind of stuff," he says, lifting the invisible but weighty mantle off her shoulders.
 
Cassy's facial expression is a complex tapestry of disappointment and relief. Altair notices this and gently places his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay? No worries; there's no need to rush yourself into this kind of situation," he reassures her.
 
For a moment, Cassy holds Altair's hand, which still rests on her shoulder. "Sorry, and thank you for your understanding," she murmurs, her voice thick with unspoken words and buried feelings.
 
Allaine can hardly contain her delight, her eyes gleaming with utter amusement. "Kyah! This is straight out of a K-drama!" She squeals, her voice rising in pitch and volume as if she's a spectator at the most thrilling moment of a television show.
 
"Impressive, very convincing! That's a 10/10 performance right there," Priscilla adds, lifting her shades to better appreciate the intimate tableau before her.
 
The room now vibrates with an odd tension and excitement, as if the very air has been charged with the electricity of unspoken desires and nascent feelings. Altair and Cassy share a brief, meaningful glance before looking away, both suddenly aware of the thin, invisible line they'd just crossed—or almost crossed.
 
"As much as I want to hang out with you guys more, I have to go," Priscilla announces, finishing her coffee and placing the mug in the sink. "Bye Laine! Bye, lovebirds!" She waves jauntily as she exits the house, the front door closing softly behind her.
"I'll have to go too, guys. Bye!" Allaine echoes her sister, also putting her mug in the sink before heading out.
 
Left to themselves, Cassy and Altair move into cleanup mode. Cassy begins clearing the table, her hands moving mechanically, while Altair takes care of the dishes. Yet the room is imbued with a deafening silence, a tangible void that neither seems willing to fill. It's as if the atmosphere has been sucked out, leaving only a vacuum of unsaid words and unacknowledged feelings.
 
"I'll go back to my room now," Cassy finally mutters, breaking the suffocating silence.
 
"Sure, take care and be safe later, okay?" Altair replies, his voice tinged with genuine concern but restrained, as if he's holding something back.
 
Cassy nods, her eyes averted, and exits the room. Once inside, she shuts the door and secures the lock. Almost immediately, her composure crumbles, and she starts to fidget nervously.
 
"What the hell was that reaction, Cassy?" She berates herself, pacing the length of her room like a caged animal.
 
"There's definitely nothing going on between Allaine and Altair! And even if there is, why should I care?" She challenges herself again, stopping in front of her full-length mirror. Her reflection stares back at her, equally puzzled and tormented.
 
With a sigh, she resigns herself to her bed, her face buried in the pillows. "What is happening to me? I have these weird emotions I can't even talk about," she mumbles, her voice muffled by the fabric.
 
She rolls over and faces the ceiling. "Stop being weird, please," she pleads to herself.
 
For the next few minutes, her mind races. Is this what love feels like? No, it can't be. Or can it? She's danced around the subject of love so often, dissecting it in rom-coms, debating it with friends, and even writing about it in her private journal. But when it's staring her in the face, why does it feel so complicated? Her thoughts spiral into a confusing maze as she questions the very nature of her feelings.
 
"Don't be ridiculous, Cassy," she chides herself. "You have more pressing problems right now than falling in love. Or whatever this is." Her words hang in the air—a suspended question, a lingering doubt.