Noah still hadn't sat down. His eyes were fixed on the couch, it looked comfortable... for anyone except Noah Sinclair.
Anne crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. She watched Noah with her head slightly tilted, trying to figure him out like she would a dense academic text, one sentence, one expression, one breath at a time.
"Okay," she finally said, letting out a sigh. "I'm not trying to pry, but... who was that woman? And why did she do all that?"
Noah slowly turned his head. His expression was the usual, sharp, defensive... and maybe a little sad? But his lips stayed shut. Even after a few seconds of silence, he said nothing. Anne considered pushing him to talk but she knew this wasn't the time.
Eventually, Noah chose to sit. Not on the couch, of course. He lowered himself to the floor and leaned against the side of the furniture he was so determined to avoid. His eyes stared at the ceiling, and then he spoke.
"I don't like talking about that kind of stuff to people I barely know."
Anne let out a long breath, still watching him.
"You know why I don't believe in serious relationships?" Anne said softly, almost like she was talking to herself. "I used to. With someone. We were together for five years. I trusted him. Like, really trusted him. I thought he was the one."
Noah glanced at her, curious, but stayed quiet.
Anne gave a bitter smile. "We talked about marriage. We were planning to get married in three weeks. And then I got an invitation... to his wedding. With someone else. Apparently, I wasn't the one in the end."
Noah looked surprised for a second, but quickly masked it. His hand instinctively lifted his mug to his lips.
"I learned something from that," Anne continued. "People can promise you anything. But promises don't always mean something. So now? I try not to rely on anyone. Casual feels safer. No big expectations, no big disappointments."
Silence.
"And yeah, maybe you think I'm slutty. I know you were judging me in the beginning. You made that pretty clear, actually," she said, turning to look at Noah. "But at least now you know why."
Noah finally spoke. His voice was quiet but sharp, like always. "I never said you were slutty."
Anne raised an eyebrow. "But you thought it."
Noah looked away, then gave a small nod. "Maybe. I mean, okay, I did say you were... you know. Wild. But not slutty," he admitted. "But… I get it now. A little."
Anne gave a short laugh. "That's a big step for you, Mr. Sinclair."
He didn't return her smile but his eyes weren't as cold anymore.
Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn't as tense as before. There was a kind of... quiet understanding in the air. Not full-on comfort, not yet, but enough to let Noah breathe a little easier.
On the coffee table near Anne was a big glass jar filled with cookies. They weren't perfect, some looked slightly burnt at the edges, but they smelled... warm, sweet, and ridiculously tempting.
Noah glanced at the jar more than once. His stomach made a grumble noise, like it was complaining about not being fed all day. But he hesitated. Not just because he didn't know who last touched the jar which he avoid, but also because... well, he wasn't the type to ask.
Anne, who clearly noticed, tried not to smile. "You hungry?"
Noah turned quickly, like a kid caught sneaking a look at candy. "I was just... looking."
"Hmm." Anne stood, grabbed the jar, and brought it over. "Homemade, by the way. Chocolate chip and almond. I baked them two days ago, but they're still good. I kept the jar sealed."
Noah hesitated. But the chocolatey smell was starting to weaken his resistance. He eyed the jar, then glanced at Anne, almost like he was asking for permission again, even though she had already offered.
Anne chuckled softly. "You can eat, Noah. I won't bite if you take a cookie."
He still waited a second. Slightly hesitated.
Then, carefully, as if he was handling some ancient artifact, Noah opened the jar and picked the most 'symmetrical'-looking cookie. He sat down again, still on the floor, but now a little closer. He took a small bite. Then stopped. His face showed confusion... and slowly turned to surprise.
"This is... good," he said quietly.
Anne raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Wow. I'm amazed you know how to give compliments."
Noah ignored the teasing. He took a bigger bite and, with his mouth half full, asked, "Did you... call a cleaning service? For my apartment?"
Anne nodded as she poured herself more tea. "Yep. While you were in the bathroom. I figured you'd feel better knowing it was being taken care of."
Noah chewed slowly, then looked at her this time without any hesitation. "Thanks, Professor Anne."
Anne gave him a small smile and held out the jar.
"Another?"
Noah nodded and grabbed another cookie.
"You know," Anne said, sitting on the couch facing him, "when we're not on campus, you can just call me Anne. You don't have to say 'Professor.'"
"Okay, I'll call you Anne," Noah replied flatly. Honestly, calling her 'professor' felt weird anyway, especially when she didn't look the part at all right now.
[TING]
"Oh, the cleaners are done," Anne said after checking a message on her phone.
Noah's eyes widened. "Seriously?" His hand reflexively touched his chest.
Anne noticed and immediately stood. "Come on, want to check their work? You can yell at them if they missed a spot," she joked.
Noah gave a small smile but stood and followed her.
The apartment was noticeably cleaner now. The scattered trash was gone.
"All cleaned up," one of the staff said. "One of our team even looked around for any animals or rodents that might've caused the mess, but we didn't find anything. Every corner is spotless. It's just the scattered trash that was the issue."
"You should keep an eye on things, an animal could've come in through an open window. Anyway, we'll be on our way now," he added.
Anne almost spoke, but held her tongue. She wanted to say it wasn't an animal, but a human who caused the chaos. Still, she didn't want to stir the pot, especially since she still didn't know the full story between Noah and that woman.
Once the cleaners left, Anne turned to check on Noah again.
"So? Still need my protection?" she teased.
Noah rolled his eyes and stepped into his apartment. This place had barely been touched by anyone before, and now a whole group of strangers had walked in. He hated it, even if it was for cleaning.
"Shut up and just go home," he muttered, look really tired.
Anne just shook her head and walked back to her unit. But right as she reached her door, Noah called her name.
"Um, Anne... thanks for helping me. With everything," he said before quickly shutting the door behind him.
Anne blinked, caught off guard.
What kind of thank you was that?! He just said what he wanted and slammed the door like nothing happened?
Thinking about it made her laugh under her breath. That was probably the most Noah Sinclair way of saying thank you.
~~~~~
Back inside his now-clean apartment, Noah looked around. The kitchen, the living room, they were spotless. But still... something didn't sit right.
Without wasting time, he grabbed his latex gloves, face mask, and his go-to cleaning spray. And once again, he cleaned the whole place top to bottom even though it had just been professionally done.
Two hours later, he glanced at the wall clock. It was 11:36 p.m.
He peeled off his gloves and mask, then collapsed onto the couch.
What the hell was today? So exhausting... Everything just came at me at once.
But... it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.
Noah closed his eyes, just for a second, or so he thought.
But his tired body and worn-out mind dragged him into a deep sleep.
The kind that doesn't just let you rest but forces you to.