A casual morning

Sunlight was pushing through the gap in the curtains when I woke. Pale and faded, the kind of morning light that suggests the day hasn't quite decided what it wants to be yet.

Emily was still asleep beside me, her back to me, her breathing slow and even. Honey-brown hair fanned across the pillow. One bare shoulder peeked out from under the duvet. She looked peaceful. Normal.

I lay there for a minute, just listening to her breathe, trying to anchor myself in the mundane reality of a Saturday morning. No video. No mysterious man. No whispered commands. Just a bedroom, a sleeping girlfriend, and the faint sound of traffic from the street below.

It didn't quite work. The unease was still there, coiled in my gut like a snake waiting to stir. But I could push it down. For now.

I slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake her. My feet found the cold floor, and I padded into the living room, grabbing my phone from where it had fallen between the couch cushions the night before.

I opened my messages. Scrolled to Harry.

“You free today? Could use a gaming session. Same as last week?”

I hit send. Then I stood there, staring at the screen, waiting for the three dots that didn't appear.

Nothing.

Right. It was early. He was probably still asleep. Or busy. Or just hadn't seen it yet.

I decided to go for a walk. Clear my head. The fridge was looking bare anyway, and I could use the fresh air.

I pulled on jeans, a hoodie, trainers. Grabbed my wallet and keys. I paused at the bedroom door, glancing in at Emily's sleeping form, then slipped out of the apartment.

The air was cool and clean, carrying the faint earthy smell of wet pavement. The walk to the local shop took about ten minutes. I took it slow, letting my mind wander, trying not to let it wander to the places it kept wanting to go.

The shop was nearly empty. A woman in yoga pants picking through the organic section. An old man buying a newspaper. The hum of fluorescent lights and fridges.

I grabbed a basket and started working through my mental list. Milk. Bread. Eggs. Some of those cookies Emily liked. A bag of chips for gaming later, assuming Harry got back to me.

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out. A thumbs-up emoji from Harry. No text, no time, just the thumbs-up. But it was enough. He was coming.

I finished my shopping, paid, and casually walked back, enjoying the crispness of the air, the plastic bag swinging at my side. The sun had gotten a little bolder, breaking through the clouds in patches.

I reached the apartment building, climbed the stairs, and unlocked the door.

The sound of voices hit me before the door was fully open. Emily's laugh. And a man's voice, lower, familiar.

I stepped inside.

Harry was sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, a mug of coffee in front of him. Emily stood on the other side of the counter, wearing her silk robe - the deep burgundy one, belted at the waist, the collar loose enough to hint at the curve of her collarbone but revealing nothing. Her hair was slightly tousled, like she'd just rolled out of bed and thrown the robe on.

They both looked up as I entered.

Emily’s smile was radiant as usual but Harry's reaction was unexpected. He practically jumped off the stool, his hand knocking the mug, coffee sloshing over the rim. "Oh, shit - sorry, Scott. I just - I remembered I have some shit to do today. Raincheck, yeah?"

He was already moving, grabbing his jacket from the back of the stool, shoving his arms into the sleeves. His eyes were darting everywhere - the counter, the floor, the window - anywhere but at me.

I blinked. "Uh. Yeah. Raincheck. Sure."

"Cool. Yeah. See ya." He was at the door now, fumbling with the handle. "Bye, Emily!"

"Bye, Harry!" she called after him, her voice light and cheerful.

The door clicked shut behind him.

I stood there, the plastic bag still in my hand, staring at the closed door.

After a pause, Emily spoke. "That was weird, right?"

I turned to look at her. She was frowning at the door, her head tilted, genuinely confused.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No, he only got here about five minutes ago." She picked up her own mug, wrapping both hands around it. "He helped me make coffee. I was telling him about my new workouts."

She took a long sip, her eyes closing. "Mmm. Yummy."

She set the mug down and stretched, the robe pulling tight across her body for a moment, then settling back into its loose folds. "Maybe call him later?" She moved around the counter, grabbing a water bottle from the drying rack and filling it at the tap.

"I'm going to go do a workout in the bedroom," she said over her shoulder, "then I think I'll have a long shower. Want to do something this afternoon?"

My mind was still caught on Harry's exit. The scrambling and sudden excuse. Was he deliberately avoiding looking at me?

"Um. Yeah," I said, forcing my voice into something resembling normal. "This afternoon. It's a date."

She turned and smiled at me, bright and genuine, before grabbing her coffee mug and disappearing into the bedroom, the robe swaying around her thighs. For just a moment, the fabric parted, offering a glimpse of creamy skin before falling back into place.

The bedroom door clicked shut.

I stood alone in the kitchen, the plastic bag still in my hand. I set it on the counter. Picked up Harry's abandoned mug. Steam was still rising from the surface.

I stared at it for a long moment, my thumb tracing the rim.

What the hell was that about?