Episode 1 . ︎ᡣ𐭩 ݁˖

Alina’s mother’s voice rang sharply through the house from downstairs.

“Alina, wake up! It’s already late!” her mother shouted, the sound of plates clinking against the dining table following right after.

But Alina had already been awake for nearly an hour.

The early sunlight slipped softly through the curtains of her bedroom, painting golden lines across the floor. She stood in front of the mirror quietly, carefully adjusting the sleeves of her soft white sweater for what felt like the tenth time.

Her eyes examined every small detail. The way her hair rested against her shoulders. The faint pink tint on her lips. The nervous sparkle in her eyes. Slowly, a grin spread across her face.

“Hm…” Alina murmured to herself while tilting her head slightly. “You look cute today, girl.”

The thought alone made warmth rush straight into her cheeks.

Leroy.

Just hearing his name inside her head was enough to make her heartbeat lose control.

Her fingers pressed lightly against her chest as if that would somehow calm the wild rhythm there.

Ridiculous. She hadn’t even seen him yet.

“I’m coming, Mom!” Alina shouted back quickly before grabbing her bag from the chair beside her desk.

She rushed downstairs two steps at a time.

The warm smell of toasted bread, butter, and fried eggs filled the kitchen, but she barely looked at the table. Her mother stood near the counter with crossed arms, already dressed for work.

“At least sit down for five minutes,” her mother complained. “You’re going to ruin your stomach one day.”

“I know, I know!” Alina replied quickly.

Without slowing down, she grabbed a sandwich from the plate and snatched the strawberry shake beside it.

“Mom, I’m really sorry!” Alina said through hurried breaths while stuffing half the sandwich into her mouth. “I can’t eat breakfast today—I need to go! Bye!”

“Alina—!”

But the front door had already slammed shut before her mother could finish speaking.

Outside, the chilly morning air brushed softly against her skin.

The streets were still quiet, touched by the pale blue calmness of early morning. A few leaves rolled across the sidewalk as she walked down the familiar road she had memorized years ago.

Her mood felt impossibly light.

A small rock rolled beneath her shoe, and absentmindedly, she kicked it forward. It bounced several times along the pavement before finally stopping near the front gate of a modest two-story house.

And instantly, her heartbeat quickened again. She stopped walking. For a brief moment, she simply stared at the house. The windows were still closed. The curtains untouched.

Everything about the place carried Leroy’s quiet personality—simple, calm, distant.

Alina inhaled deeply before walking to the front door.

Then she pressed the bell.

Once.

Twice.

A few seconds later, she heard slow footsteps approaching from inside.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

Leroy stood there with sleepy eyes and messy dark hair that looked like he had just dragged himself out of bed. His loose black shirt hung carelessly over one shoulder, exposing part of his collarbone.

For a second, he simply stared at her.

His tired gaze traveled slowly from her face down to her shoes before returning to her eyes again.

“This is too early…” Leroy muttered in a rough morning voice, stepping aside to let her enter.

Alina tried very hard not to stare at him too obviously.

Failed instantly.

“I-I just woke up early today,” Alina replied casually while walking inside.

The familiar scent of paint and coffee lingered faintly in the house. She dropped onto the living room couch comfortably and placed her backpack beside her as if she belonged there already.

Behind her, Leroy shut the door with a tired sigh.

“Hmm,” Leroy murmured. “Then you’ll have to wait for me.”

A mischievous smile slowly appeared on Alina’s lips.

“I can wait,” Alina replied softly.

Leroy started walking toward the hallway.

Then she added quietly—

“I can wait for you until you finally say yes to me.”

His footsteps stopped instantly. The silence that followed felt dangerously heavy. Even the ticking clock on the wall suddenly sounded louder. Slowly, Leroy turned around.

For a moment, he said nothing. He only stared at her. At the confidence shining in her bright eyes.

At the stubborn smile that never disappeared no matter how many times he rejected her.

At the girl who somehow continued standing in front of him without fear.

Then he began walking toward her.

One step.

Then another.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Until Alina instinctively leaned backward against the couch cushions.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Leroy stopped directly in front of her.

One of his hands pressed against the couch beside her shoulder, trapping her between himself and the cushions as he leaned closer.

Too close.

“Do you even realize what you’re saying?” Leroy asked quietly.

His low voice carried a dangerous calmness that instantly made Alina nervous.

Still, she forced herself not to look away.

“Y-Yes,” Alina whispered softly. “Of course I do.”

Her voice sounded much less confident now. But she still meant every word.

Alina had only recently turned nineteen. And in her opinion, becoming an adult meant nobody had the right to decide her feelings for her anymore.

Not her parents. Not society. And definitely not Leroy.

She had fallen for him when she was only fourteen years old.

She still remembered the exact moment clearly.

Back then, her father had taken her to Leroy’s art studio for the first time. The studio smelled like paint, charcoal, and old paper. Sunlight had poured through the tall windows while unfinished canvases leaned carelessly against the walls.

And in the middle of that quiet mess stood Leroy.

Young.

Calm.

Silent.

His fingers stained with paint while he focused on a canvas as though the rest of the world didn’t exist.

That was the moment she lost completely.

His calm voice.

His distant eyes.

The quiet sadness hidden inside his expressions.

Everything about him stayed in her mind long after that day ended.

At fourteen, she already knew nobody would ever take her feelings seriously.

A schoolgirl’s crush. That was all people would call it. So she waited. Patiently. Stubbornly. She waited until she turned eighteen.

And for the past year, she had chased after him openly without shame, hesitation, or regret. Because Alina never gave up on things she truly wanted. Especially not him.

Leroy, meanwhile, was twenty-eight.An artist. An art teacher.

A man who preferred silence over unnecessary complications.

For years, he had known exactly how Alina felt. At first, he ignored it.

He convinced himself it was nothing more than childish admiration that would eventually disappear with time.

But time passed. And her feelings never faded. If anything, they only became more intense.

More dangerous. And now—

Standing inches away from her.

Looking directly into eyes filled with unwavering certainty—

Leroy was no longer sure which one of them had started crossing the line first.

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