As quickly as she could, she returned to the table, sliding into the seat across from her. He watched her as she came.
"I don't know how you do it," he said, his voice low and warm.
"Do it?" she asked.
"How do you keep that figure and eat food like this?" he revealed, flourishing a bite of fatback.
"I work fifteen hours a day on my feet and rarely have time to actually eat," said Kyara, smirking. "Also, I mostly eat the greens. Tonight I was just doing something special after a hard day."
"Yeah," agreed Jason, his eyes going distant and sad again. "Hard day."
Kyara instantly regretted mentioning it and ruining the mood. She reached across the table, taking his hand in hers.
"Hey," she said, holding him tightly. "It's gonna be alright. She was fine. In a few days she'll be back to spilling your secrets and speculating on celebrity love lives again."
Jason shook his head.
"That's not it," he said softly.
"Then what is it?"
Jason stayed quiet for a long time before he spoke again. Kyara waited, her hand gently rubbing against his.
"I wasn't there," he said at last. "I moved all the way back here so that I'd be there for her when something finally happened, and I wasn't there." His eyes moved to their hands, her dark, delicate fingers arched over his pale, rough ones.
“No one should have to be alone when something like that happens," he said in a near whisper.
His parents are always traveling, Kyara remembered. I wonder what happened to him when they weren't there.
"You're not alone," said Kyara. Jason turned his gray eyes to hers.
Did I say he's not alone? I meant to say she wasn't.
Jason's eyes on hers drew her in. She saw in them loneliness, but also hope, and warmth, and need.
He turned his hand over in hers, holding her. His skin against hers suddenly felt pleasantly warm. Slowly, carefully, he picked up her hand, drawing it to his mouth. He pressed it to his lips, lightly kissing it. Kyara tingled, a warmth rising up from her belly.
I want this so badly, but...
"I think it's my turn to say this," Kyara said quietly. "You've had a rough night. We shouldn't do this while you're emotionally vulnerable."
Jason kept holding onto her hand, but sighed.
"You're right, of course," he said. "And thank you. But we should really find a time when one of us isn't ... when we're both in a position to really be with each other."
I don't think that's ever going to happen for me, thought Kyara, but now's not the time to tell him. Instead, Kyara squeezed his hand.
"Why don't you lie down on the couch for a bit?" she offered instead. "I'm going to clean up and change, and then I can give you a lift home."
Jason nodded, the same pained, far-away looked coming back into his eyes.
Kyara stood, showed him where her couch was, and set about cleaning up. She moved quietly, trying not to think about the man only a room away. When she was done in the kitchen, she walked to the bedroom, passing through where he was resting.
His eyes were closed, his hands cupped underneath where his face lay on a throw-pillow. His face, normally so controlled and confident when he was awake, was relaxed in sleep. He was still gorgeous, but softer, younger looking, and vulnerable.
Kyara padded carefully to her bedroom, pulling out an extra blanked from the closet. She came back, settled it over him, and dimmed the light. Navigating by moonlight, she padded back to the bedroom, moving silently so she wouldn't wake him.
I'll never get to sleep with him so close, she thought to herself as she settled into her large, empty bed.