Sunday morning stretched lazily across the sky, golden light filtering through the buildings like it was in no rush at all. Cleo stood at the foot of Riz's apartment steps, a takeaway tray in one hand, the other jammed into the pocket of his light-washed jeans. He wore a soft cream button-up, sleeves rolled, the top few buttons undone to reveal just enough collarbone to be criminal. Riz would say something, he always did. And Cleo would pretend not to like it.
The building's door creaked open a few moments later, and Riz emerged—barefoot, slightly rumpled, wearing a charcoal-gray hoodie and that half-awake, soft-mouthed smile that always made Cleo's breath catch.
"Wait," Riz said, slowing as he reached the bottom step. His eyes scanned Cleo, narrowed, then widened playfully. "You're dressed like a date. Are you trying to seduce me before brunch?"
Cleo lifted the coffee tray, unbothered. "If caffeine's all it takes, I'm concerned about your standards."
Riz grinned, stepping closer to pluck his cup from the tray. "You even remembered how I like it. Damn, maybe I am seduced."
Cleo rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "You fall too easily."
Riz took a long sip, eyes never leaving Cleo's face. "Only for you."
And then—like gravity had tipped ever so slightly in Riz's favor—he leaned in, quick and sure, and stole a kiss.
It wasn't a dramatic thing. Just a brush of lips, soft and short, more playful than anything. But it startled Cleo all the same—right in the middle of the sidewalk, sun in his eyes, coffee warming his fingers, and now Riz warming the rest of him from the inside out.
When Riz pulled back, he grinned like a man who'd just gotten away with something.
Cleo blinked. "What was that?"
"Interest," Riz said, already turning to unlock the car. "You know. In the date you're totally pretending isn't a date."
Cleo coughed and followed. "That was... unexpected."
Riz slid into the passenger seat. "And yet you didn't slap me."
"I was holding coffee."
"That sounds like an excuse."
"It is an excuse."
But Cleo was smiling, his cheeks pinked by more than the sun. He ducked into the car, trying not to glance over at Riz again.
It didn't work.
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🌿 Botanical Garden – "Pictures of Us" 🌿
The garden unfolded in winding paths and bursts of color—orchids, lilies, trumpet vines in full bloom. Cleo had his camera out, snapping photos every few steps, crouching down to get the perfect angle on a bloom or a dewdrop. Riz watched him more than the flowers, and not just because he kept accidentally walking into branches.
At one point, Riz was trying to get a closer look at a hanging magnolia and ended up with petals in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," Cleo said, biting back a laugh.
"I'm naturalistic," Riz said. "Immersive. I become one with the flora."
"By trying to make out with a tree?"
"If it gets me attention from you? Maybe."
Cleo snorted but turned away quickly, pretending to adjust his lens. His fingers trembled slightly. Riz didn't miss it.
They wandered off the main path until they found a shaded alcove—stone benches under an archway wrapped in bougainvillea. The air was quieter here, heavier with floral scent. Cleo settled on the bench, scrolling through his camera gallery while Riz sprawled beside him, long legs stretched out, eyes closed like a sun-drenched cat.
"Hey," Cleo murmured. "Look at this."
Riz cracked one eye open.
Cleo turned the camera toward him, showing a candid shot he'd taken earlier—Riz laughing, hair a mess, hand caught mid-motion as if brushing something away. The light had hit him just right, illuminating his cheekbones and eyes, but softening everything else. He looked happy. Unfiltered.
Riz sat up a little. "You took that?"
"Yeah."
"You've got, like, thirty pictures of orchids and that is what you show me?"
"I liked the lighting," Cleo said too quickly.
Riz tilted his head. "That's not why."
Cleo didn't answer.
For a long moment, they just sat there, the sound of distant water fountains and birdsong filling the quiet. Then Riz reached over and gently took Cleo's hand.
"You always look at me like that?" he asked, his voice low, cautious.
Cleo blinked. "Like what?"
"Like I'm the only thing worth capturing."
Cleo hesitated. Swallowed. "Yeah," he said softly. "I guess I do."
Riz leaned in, not kissing him this time, just resting his forehead against Cleo's. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"I think I'm starting to."
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🌿 Botanical Garden – "Before the Noise" 🌿
They didn't move for a while.
The breeze rustled through the bougainvillea overhead, scattering pink petals across the stone at their feet. Riz still had Cleo's hand in his, thumb absentmindedly stroking over his knuckles. Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence—not here. It was the kind of moment that didn't need words, just space to breathe.
Cleo leaned back against the bench, letting his shoulder brush Riz's. "Do you ever think about how weird this all is?" he asked quietly. "Us. Like... if someone had told me a year ago I'd be sitting here, with you, holding hands in a garden, I'd have laughed in their face."
Riz chuckled. "Yeah. You used to look at me like I was a virus you were trying not to catch."
"I wasn't that bad."
"You glared at me during a group project like I'd insulted your ancestors."
Cleo snorted. "You had said my wiring was sloppy."
"Which, to be fair, it was—"
Cleo turned, smirking. "Do you want me to let go of your hand?"
Riz grinned and tightened his grip. "Not even a little."
The playful banter faded into a lull again, and Riz's expression shifted into something softer. He glanced down at their entwined fingers and said, "I really like this, you know? Just... being with you. Quiet like this."
Cleo looked at him, the sunlight catching in Riz's eyes like melted amber. "I do too."
For a second, Riz's smile faltered—not out of doubt, but because of how serious his next words felt. "Sometimes I wish we could stay in this moment. Just... a little longer."
Cleo nodded. "Me too."
He rested his head lightly on Riz's shoulder, and they stayed like that, the scent of flowers all around them, the hum of the city far away. No eyes watching. No games. Just them, breathing in time, hearts beating just a little faster than normal.
A petal drifted down and landed in Cleo's hair.
Riz reached up and plucked it free, fingers brushing through the strands. "You're dangerously pretty, you know that?"
Cleo laughed under his breath. "You're such a flirt."
"And you're terrible at taking compliments."
"But I like yours," Cleo whispered, turning his face just slightly, their noses brushing.
Riz smiled. "Then I'll keep giving them."
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End of Chapter Thirteen