The slightly open door to Ion’s bedroom let a faint yellowish glow from the living room seep inside. On a dinosaur-print bedsheet, the three-year-old boy hugged his little bolster tightly, while his other hand refused to let go of the hem of the T-shirt Lyra was wearing.
“Auntie Lyaa... tell me again ’bout the dragon who sells ice cream...” Ion whispered hoarsely, his eyes only five percent away from closing completely.
Lyra, lying on her stomach beside him, chuckled softly as she patted his little back in a steady rhythm. Honestly, her own brain had turned to mush after working overtime all night, on top of the energy she’d burned taking apart Ales’s laptop casing earlier.
“The ice cream dragon’s tired, Ion... the ice cream cones were all bought by a monkey,” Lyra mumbled, her voice growing softer. Her outstretched legs ached terribly. “Now the dragon wants to sleep... Ion needs to sleep too...”
“What flavor did the monkey buy...?” Ion asked indistinctly, his breathing starting to grow slow and heavy.
“Flavor... matcha flavor...” Lyra answered randomly.
Lyra’s eyes grew heavier. The warmth of the room, the scent of Ion’s telon oil, and her accumulated exhaustion finally won out. Within seconds, Lyra’s sentence was cut short. The girl’s head drooped beside Ion’s, her eyes squeezing shut as she followed the little munchkin into dreamland.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the living room, Ales was holding Lyra’s laptop on his lap. His fingers danced rapidly across the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the monitor as he occasionally typed coordination messages on his phone.
[Ales]: I’ve sent the final revised file to the office email, bro. Sorry it’s late—there was a technical issue earlier.
[Co-worker]: No worries, Les. Thanks for helping get it sorted out this late at night.
Ales let out a long sigh and leaned back against the sofa. He massaged the bridge of his nose, which felt sore. Today’s work crisis was officially over. His laptop still hadn’t finished being fully reinstalled, but thanks to the SSD Lyra had salvaged earlier, all of his office’s important data had been recovered without a single thing missing.
After sending his final reply, Ales finally turned his attention toward Ion’s room. The house had suddenly gone completely quiet. There was no longer any sound of Ion shouting or Lyra making up ridiculous stories.
Ales rose from the sofa and tiptoed toward the slightly open door of his only child’s bedroom.
He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and looked inside. His gaze immediately locked onto the scene on the bed.
Ion was already sleeping soundly on his back. Beside him, Lyra lay curled on her side, sleeping so deeply that her mouth hung slightly open. Ion’s little hand was still faithfully clutching the hem of Lyra’s shirt, while Lyra’s arm was wrapped around Ion’s stomach, like a mother instinctively protecting her child.
Ales stood stunned for several seconds.
A warm pulse suddenly throbbed in the man’s chest—a strange sense of peace that he had desperately missed. It had been a long time since this little house had felt so warm and alive at night.
Slowly, without making the slightest sound, Ales stepped inside. He knelt beside the bed, picked up the car-print blanket bunched at the foot, then carefully pulled it up until it covered Ion and Lyra’s chests.
As he was about to withdraw his hand, Ales noticed several messy strands of Lyra’s hair covering her cheek. Without thinking—purely on reflex—his fingers lifted and tucked the strands behind Lyra’s ear. Her cheek felt warm against his fingertips.
Ales froze instantly. Realizing what he had just done, he quickly pulled his hand back and cleared his throat without making a sound.
What the hell am I doing? he scolded himself silently.
“Nngghh...”
The movement of the blanket made Lyra groan softly. Her eyes blinked several times as she tried to adjust to the faint glow, until they finally caught sight of the tall guy kneeling beside the bed.
“Huh...? Les?” Lyra jolted in surprise, sitting straight up as she clutched her chest. “Damn—you scared me! What are you doing crouching there like some ghost?!”
Ales hurriedly stood and shoved both hands into his pants pockets, trying to look as cold as possible to hide how nervous he was.
“Who’re you calling a ghost? I was covering Ion up. You’re the one who sleeps like a buffalo—one little scare and you make a whole scene,” Ales whispered irritably.
Lyra glanced at the clock on Ion’s bedroom wall. It read 8:30 p.m.
“I fell asleep?” Lyra rubbed her still-groggy eyes, then glared fiercely at Ales. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I was only going to keep Ion company for a little while!”
“How was I supposed to wake you? You were hugging Ion so tightly that if I tried to pull you away, you’d just get mad,” Ales said, making up an excuse. “Come on, get out. Poor Ion’s going to wake up because of your shrill voice.”
Lyra snorted but obeyed. She slowly released Ion’s fingers from her shirt, replacing the hem with his little bolster, then tiptoed out of the room after Ales. The moment Ion’s bedroom door clicked shut, Lyra’s stomach let out a fairly loud rumble.
Grrrrrr...
Lyra stopped in front of the kitchen. Ales, walking ahead of her, turned too, glanced at her stomach, and raised one eyebrow.
“What was that? A mouse asking for food?” Ales teased lightly.
Lyra put on an innocent poker face while clutching her stomach. “What do you expect? Since this afternoon, I’ve only had chips to keep me going. Then my life force got completely drained playing with Ion, and after that I had to take apart your SSD again.”
Ales shook his head, but his feet immediately turned toward the kitchen cabinets. He opened the upper cupboard and took out two packages of chicken-and-onion instant noodles, along with two eggs from the refrigerator.
“Here. A reward for helping me earlier,” Ales said as he turned on the stove.
Lyra’s eyes immediately lit up. “Cook the eggs all the way, okay? Don’t let the yolks break!”
“So demanding,” Ales grumbled, pretending to be annoyed. But as usual, his hands carefully cracked the eggs so the yolks wouldn’t break—exactly as Lyra had requested.
While waiting for Ales’s noodles to finish, Lyra sat on one of the kitchen’s bar stools, watching him deftly mix the seasoning. Without being asked, Ales sprinkled sliced bird’s-eye chilies into Lyra’s bowl and left his own bowl plain. It was an old habit dating back to their school days, one that no longer needed to be discussed.
The two of them eventually ate sitting on the living-room carpet, placing their two bowls of noodles on the small glass table.
“This is so freaking good...” Lyra murmured, her eyes sparkling as the warm broth slid down her throat. “Late at night, exhausted, eating free noodle soup... What other blessings of God are you going to deny?”
Ales watched Lyra eat so enthusiastically that her cheeks puffed out. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Without saying a word, the hand holding his chopsticks moved quickly, snatching half of Lyra’s egg and popping it into his own mouth.
“Ales! My egg!” Lyra shrieked in shock, her eyes going wide. “Wow, you’re awful! You want me to pinch your ear?!”
“Chef’s fee,” Ales replied casually, chewing happily without a shred of guilt. “Besides, you’re eating like nobody’s fed you in three days.”
Lyra pursed her lips angrily but eventually gave in and chose to sip her broth. Under the living-room light, however, Ales studied her profile. There were shadows of exhaustion beneath her eyes that she couldn’t hide.
“Your dad... still having episodes?” Ales asked quietly, his tone turning warmer.
Lyra’s chopsticks stopped in midair for a moment. She let out a long sigh, then offered a faint smile—the resigned smile Ales had known by heart since they were still wearing their white-and-gray high school uniforms.
“Yeah, same old story, Les. Parents, you know,” Lyra said with a hollow chuckle. “He always finds some little thing to blow out of proportion. Sometimes I get tired just listening to it.”
Ales listened in silence, then leaned his back against the sofa.
He knew exactly how cold Lyra’s home could feel. Ever since high school, Ales had heard more than enough of Lyra’s complaints, understood how demanding her father was, and already knew why the girl in front of him was always saying, “I’m never getting married.”
That was why Ales had never wanted to make a big deal out of it or force someone else’s perspective on Lyra. As far as he was concerned, if Lyra could talk without feeling judged, that was enough.
“Sometimes I still wonder how you manage to stay at home,” Ales remarked casually, trying to lighten the heavy mood. “If I were you, I would’ve run away back in high school.”
“I’m a dutiful daughter,” Lyra replied offhandedly, though her eyes were fixed on the thin steam rising from her noodle bowl. “But yeah... the reason I’ve never wanted to think about marriage, from back then until now, is that I’m afraid I’ll end up with someone like Dad. I’d rather sell planners for the rest of my life than get into a relationship that gives me a headache.”
Ales looked at Lyra for a moment. He didn’t interrupt or try to lecture her, because he had known his best friend’s way of thinking by heart for years.
“Then don’t overthink it,” Ales replied in a calm, easy tone. “Besides, whenever your house gets too loud... you know where to run.”
Ales glanced briefly toward Ion’s bedroom, then gave a small smile. “Auntie Tina’s house is always open. Or, if you feel like being pestered by a little kid, you can just come over here.”
Lyra chuckled softly. The tightness in her chest slowly gave way to warmth. It was Ales’s small, undemanding acts of concern that always made Lyra feel safe around him.
“Oh, so this is all just a sneaky request for free babysitting for Ion!” Lyra joked, hooking her arm around Ales’s shoulder.
Ales burst out laughing—a warm laugh he rarely showed anyone else. “It’s called taking advantage of an opportunity.”
Ales then snatched his phone off the table. “All right, head straight home after this, okay? It’s past nine,” he said as he opened a rideshare app. “I’ll book you a GrabCar.”
Lyra turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to drive me home yourself? So stingy.”
Ales glanced toward Ion’s tightly closed bedroom door, then looked flatly at Lyra. “You want Ion to wake up in the middle of the night and look for me, only to find I’m not home? You want me to leave that kid alone?”
Lyra immediately smacked her own forehead. “Oh, right... I forgot about Ion. Fine, GrabCar works.”
Lyra had come to Ales’s house without her motorcycle. That afternoon, the only automatic scooter at her house had been taken by her younger sibling, who was still in vocational high school, to hang out with friends, so Lyra had been forced to order a motorcycle ride just to get to Ales’s house.
“Great, the driver’s on the way,” Ales said, placing his phone back on the table.
“But you’re reimbursing my Grab fare, right, Boss?” Lyra joked with a small laugh.
Ales only shook his head at his friend’s antics. “Relax, I already paid cashless. You just have to sit pretty until you get to your front door.”
Fifteen minutes later, a white sedan stopped right in front of Ales’s gate.
Lyra grabbed her little bag, slipped on her flip-flops on the terrace, then walked out with Ales beside her.
Ales tapped on the driver’s window. When it rolled down, he looked at the Grab driver with a firm, protective expression.
“Sir, please take my friend all the way to the exact front of her house. The address is already correct in the app—it’s in the neighboring complex. Don’t drop her off at the mouth of the alley,” Ales said, his tone calm but emphatic.
“Sure thing, bro. No problem—I’ll follow the pin exactly,” the driver replied cheerfully.
Ales nodded, then turned to Lyra, who was sitting properly in the back passenger seat.
“Nothing got left behind, right?” Ales asked, checking one last time through the window.
“All good, everything’s in my bag!” Lyra called back with a broad smile. “I’m heading home, Les. Say hi to Ion when he wakes up tomorrow morning!”
“Okay. Let me know on WhatsApp as soon as you get home,” Ales reminded her.
The white car slowly pulled away from the house. Ales remained standing by the roadside with his arms folded across his chest, watching the car’s taillights until they finally disappeared around the alley’s bend.
When he turned and walked back inside, closing the door tightly behind him, the warmth that had filled the room moments earlier instantly evaporated.
The 45-square-meter house suddenly felt incredibly quiet.
Ales stared at the two empty bowls on the glass table that hadn’t been washed yet. The man let out a long sigh, walked over to the foam mattress in the living room, then threw himself onto it. He stared up at the lonely ceiling.
A faint emptiness suddenly crept into his chest. A feeling that made Ales realize he needed someone to bring life back into this house.
To Be Continued!
Don’t forget to leave a little love behind 🤗❤