Sunlight streamed through the window, casting soft, golden rays across the room. Scarlet stirred, her eyes slowly opening as she registered the unfamiliar surroundings. It took a moment for her to remember where she was—Max's place.
She sat up, stretching out the stiffness from the night before. The events of last night came flooding back—the guys who harassed her, Max fighting them off, and how she had broken down in his arms. She glanced over to the couch where Max was sprawled out, his arm hanging off the side, still fast asleep.
A small smile tugged at her lips. He looked peaceful, his usual guarded expression softened in sleep. She found herself staring longer than she intended before shaking herself out of it.
Feeling restless, Scarlet stood up and wandered into the small kitchen. The place was surprisingly tidy for a guy's apartment—minimalist, but cozy. She found a few ingredients in the fridge and decided to make breakfast as a way of saying thank you.
The smell of sizzling eggs and toast slowly filled the apartment. Scarlet hummed softly to herself, flipping the eggs with a practiced hand. Cooking was something that always calmed her, and after the stress of the previous night, it felt good to focus on something simple.
She was just plating the food when she heard a low groan from the living room. Peeking around the corner, she saw Max shifting on the couch, one hand rubbing his eyes. He blinked at the sunlight, squinting in confusion.
"Morning," Scarlet called out cheerfully.
Max turned his head, still half-asleep. "Scarlet?" His voice was rough and groggy.
She grinned. "Breakfast's ready. Thought you could use some after, you know, saving me last night."
He sat up slowly, wincing a little as he stretched. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to. Plus, you looked too peaceful to wake up right away," she teased.
Max glanced around, as if still processing that she was really there. "You didn't… leave."
Scarlet's smile softened. "I didn't want to. I felt safe here."
He looked at her, something unspoken passing between them. Before either of them could break the moment, Scarlet cleared her throat and waved him over. "Come on. Eat before it gets cold."
Max pushed himself up, running a hand through his messy hair. He joined her at the small dining table, where she'd set two plates.
"Wow," he muttered, eyeing the food. "Didn't know you could cook."
"There's a lot you don't know about me," she replied playfully.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Guess I'll have to learn more."
They dug into the meal, the silence between them comfortable and warm. Scarlet watched Max eat, noticing how his shoulders seemed less tense than usual. When he caught her staring, she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing.
"So, about last night," he started, setting his fork down. "You okay?"
Scarlet hesitated, tracing patterns on the edge of her plate. "Yeah… I guess I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't the first time someone's tried to corner me, but… I've never felt that scared before."
Max's jaw clenched, and he looked down. "I should've been there sooner."
"It's not your fault," Scarlet insisted, reaching across the table to put a hand over his. "You showed up when it mattered. That's what counts."
He looked at her hand on his, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Max's fingers curled slightly, brushing against hers. Scarlet pulled back, suddenly feeling exposed.
"Thanks… for everything," she mumbled, busying herself with her half-eaten breakfast.
Max didn't push, just nodded. "Anytime."
After finishing the meal, Scarlet started clearing the dishes, but Max stopped her. "You cooked, I'll clean. That's the deal."
She laughed. "You sure? I didn't exactly ask for permission to take over your kitchen."
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Don't worry. You're welcome here… anytime."
Scarlet paused, processing his words. The way he looked at her made her heart race, and for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel the urge to run or hide. She felt… safe.