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The loft smelled faintly of dust, leather, and whatever Derek had decided counted as “cleaning solution” this week which, judging by the sharp, almost pine-like bite in the air, was probably something industrial and vaguely toxic.
Boyd didn’t mind. He sat on the battered couch, broad shoulders relaxed for once, long legs stretched out in front of him. The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows, cutting the space into strips of gold and shadow. It was quiet and he took it for what it was.
In his hand, he turned an apple over slowly.
Red. Shiny. Perfect.
He’d gotten it from the corner store earlier, tucked it into his pocket like it was something worth saving, which to him, it kind of was. Food didn’t always feel like just food anymore. Not since everything changed. Not since hunger meant something sharper, something deeper than just an empty stomach.
This? This was simple. Normal. Boyd lifted it, studying it for a second longer before taking a slow, deliberate bite.
The crunch echoed louder than it should have in the open space. Juice hit his tongue, sweet and crisp, grounding him in a way nothing else quite did.
“Wow,” a voice drawled from behind him, amused and familiar. “You look like you’re having a spiritual experience with that thing.”
Boyd froze. Not in fear. In recognition. He didn’t turn right away. Instead, his grip tightened slightly around the apple as something warm, unexpected and immediate spread through his chest.
“Erica,” he said, her name low and certain.
A beat. Then —
She dropped onto the back of the couch like she owned it, boots thudding lightly. “Miss me?”
Boyd finally turned his head. Yeah, he had. She looked… good. Better than good.
Alive in a way that was impossible to ignore, blonde hair catching the sunlight, eyes bright with that sharp, playful energy that always felt like it was daring the world to try something. Her lips curved into a grin that was equal parts trouble and charm.
Boyd huffed out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh slipping through. “You’ve been gone, like, two days.”
“And yet,” she shot back instantly, leaning forward over the back of the couch, her face closer to his now, “you said my name like I just came back from war.”
He shrugged, but there was no real defense in it. “You disappear a lot.”
Her expression shifted, just a flicker. Something softer, more aware. Then it was gone.
“I had stuff to do,” she said lightly, brushing it off as if it didn’t matter. “You know, mysterious, dangerous, incredibly important things.”
Boyd raised an eyebrow. “Right.”
“Hey,” she pointed at him, mock offended, “some of us have reputations to maintain.”
His gaze flicked over her, slow and unhurried, taking in the way she held herself, the confidence that clung to her like a second skin.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You do.”
For a second, the air shifted. Not awkward or uncomfortable. Just… something. Erica noticed it. So she did what she always did when things got even a little too real. She leaned in closer and snatched the apple right out of his hand.
Boyd blinked. Once. Twice. “…Hey.”
Too late.
She took a bite, big and unapologetic, and hummed like she’d just tasted something divine. “Oh my god,” she said around the crunch, “you weren’t kidding. This is amazing.”
“That was mine,” Boyd said, though there was no real bite to it.
She swallowed, licking a bit of juice from her lip without a hint of shame. “Correction, was yours.”
Boyd stared at her. Not angry, not even really annoyed. Just… staring. Erica tilted her head, catching the look immediately. “What?”
“You just —” he gestured vaguely, “— took it.”
“Yes,” she said simply, taking another bite.
“No asking.”
“Didn’t feel necessary.”
Boyd let out a breath through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” she shot back, settling more comfortably against the back of the couch, swinging one leg over so she was half lounging now, “here I am, eating your apple, and you haven’t tackled me to the ground for it. Honestly? I’m a little disappointed.”
Boyd snorted. Actually snorted. It surprised both of them. Erica’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that’s new.”
“What?”
“You made a noise,” she said, pointing at him like it was a discovery. “Like, a real, human, amused noise. I didn’t know you had those.”
Boyd rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m hilarious. You just don’t pay attention.”
She leaned forward again, narrowing her eyes at him like she was inspecting something interesting. “Oh, I pay attention.”
That same shift again. Closer this time. Boyd felt it settle somewhere low in his chest, steady and unfamiliar. Erica took another bite of the apple, his apple, and this time, when she held it, she didn’t pull it back. Instead, she extended it toward him.
“Here,” she said.
Boyd looked at it. Then at her. “…You already bit it.”
She smirked. “Wow. Didn’t realize you were so delicate.”
“I’m not delicate,” he shot back immediately.
“Then take a bite.”
There was a challenge in her eyes. Boyd hesitated for exactly half a second before leaning in and taking a bite from the opposite side. The crunch was louder this time. He sat back, chewing slowly. Erica watched him. Not subtle, not even trying to be.
“How is it?” she asked, tone teasing.
He swallowed. “Still good.”
“Wow,” she said dryly. “Riveting review.”
He shrugged again, but this time it came with a small smile. “You didn’t ruin it.”
“Give me time.”
Boyd huffed a quiet laugh, and this time it came easier. They fell into a strange rhythm after that. Back and forth. Bite after bite. Sharing without really acknowledging that they were sharing.
Erica would make some comment, funny and just a little bit biting, and Boyd would respond in his quieter way, steady and grounded, like he wasn’t trying to keep up with her pace so much as anchor it. It worked. Better than it should have. At some point, her leg bumped his shoulder. She didn’t move it. Neither did he.
“You know,” she said after a while, voice softer now, less performative, “you didn’t freak out when I took it.”
“The apple?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He glanced at it, what was left of it, now just a core between them. “You looked like you needed it,” he said simply.
Erica blinked. That… wasn’t the answer she expected. “Needed it?” she repeated, a little incredulous.
“You were hungry,” he said, like it was obvious. “I could hear it.”
Her stomach, her heartbeat, he could hear all of it. They all could. But he said it like it wasn’t invasive. Like it was normal. Like it was… okay. Erica leaned back slightly, studying him in a new way. Most people didn’t say things like that out loud. Most people pretended they didn’t notice. Boyd just… did.
“No one’s ever okay with me taking their stuff,” she said, half-joking, half-not.
Boyd shrugged. “It’s just an apple.”
“It’s your apple.”
“Was,” he corrected.
She huffed a soft laugh at that, shaking her head. “You’re weird.”
“Yeah,” he said, completely unfazed. “So are you.”
“Excuse me,” she scoffed, though there was no real heat behind it. “I am a delight.”
Boyd raised an eyebrow. “You stole my food.”
“And improved your day.”
He considered that for a second. “.. Debatable.”
She nudged his shoulder with her boot. He nudged back. And just like that, it shifted again. Not dramatic. Not overwhelming. Just… a little closer. Erica slid off the back of the couch and dropped down beside him, close enough that their arms brushed.
“Next time,” she said, picking at the apple core absentmindedly, “get two.”
Boyd glanced at her. “So you can steal both?”
She grinned. “Exactly.”
He shook his head, but there was no real resistance in it.
“Or,” she added, quieter now, “we could just… share again.”
Boyd’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer than usual. “Yeah,” he said. “We could.”
A pause. Then —
Erica leaned her head back against the couch, her shoulder pressing more firmly into his. Boyd didn’t move away. Didn’t tense. Didn’t overthink it. He just… stayed. And for once, Erica didn’t fill the silence right away.
She let it sit. Let it exist.
Because somehow, sitting there with Boyd, half an apple between them, sunlight fading, the world momentarily quiet, it didn’t feel like she had to perform. Didn’t feel like she had to prove anything.
It just felt…
Easy.
“…Hey,” she said after a minute, voice softer than he’d ever heard it.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you missed me.”
Boyd didn’t look at her this time. He just let out a quiet breath, something warm settling in his chest again. “…Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”
And that was it. No grand declaration. No big moment. Just an apple. A theft. A shared bite.
And something small, steady, and real beginning to take root between them.