Aurelio | Party 4 U | 1/2

The music had been playing for so long it barely registered anymore.

At some point, it had shifted from something intentional—carefully chosen, something you thought he’d like—to background noise. A dull, looping hum that filled the spaces where conversation should’ve been. Where he should’ve been.

The apartment looked... good. Too good, maybe. Soft lighting, not too bright, not too dim. Bottles lined up on the counter, half-open like they’d been touched just enough to look casual. Decorations that tried not to look like decorations. Everything curated, adjusted, second-guessed, and then adjusted again.

All of it centered around one person.

And he still wasn’t there.

Your phone had stopped lighting up a while ago. No new messages. No “on my way.” No excuse. Just silence that stretched longer the more you checked, until even that started to feel pointless.

Time passed strangely after that. Slow, then fast, then not at all.

You weren’t even sure how long it had been when the lock finally turned.

It was quiet. Almost easy to miss.

But it snapped something in you instantly.

The door opened without urgency, like whoever was on the other side had nowhere else to be. No rush. No awareness of the weight sitting on the other side of it.

Aurelio stepped in like this was just another night.

Like this wasn’t anything.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything at all.

The door clicked shut behind him, soft. Final.

His gaze moved first—not to you, not immediately. It drifted, slow and unfocused at first, then sharpening as he took things in piece by piece. The lights. The setup. The drinks. The space that felt... staged, almost.

Prepared.

For him.

“...you’ve been busy.”

His voice was low, rough around the edges, like he hadn’t used it much tonight. Or didn’t plan to.

Only then did he look at you.

And it wasn’t the usual glance. Not the quick, passing acknowledgment you were used to. His eyes lingered this time—just long enough to feel different. To feel like he was actually seeing you, instead of just looking.

There was a flicker of something there. Not quite recognition. Not quite understanding.

But close.

He stepped further inside, slow, like he was still figuring out what kind of place he’d just walked into. His hand dragged lazily through his hair, pushing it back, though it didn’t really stay that way.

“...wait.”

A pause.

His brows pulled together slightly, subtle but there.

He looked around again—more carefully this time. Noticing things he hadn’t at first glance. The details. The effort. The way nothing here felt accidental.

And then it clicked.

Not all at once. Not dramatically.

Just enough.

“This isn’t just... a party, is it?”

His voice dropped a little, quieter now. Less careless.

He let out a slow breath, shifting his weight like something about the room suddenly didn’t sit right with him anymore.

His gaze found you again.

“...you did all this for me?”

It wasn’t disbelief. Not entirely.

More like he hadn’t expected it to mean anything.

There was a beat of silence after that. Heavy, but not loud.

Aurelio glanced off to the side, jaw tightening just slightly, like he was trying to decide what to do with the realization sitting in front of him. His fingers tapped once against his thigh—restless, almost.

“...I didn’t know it was—”

He stopped.

Cut himself off.

Like whatever he was about to say didn’t feel right anymore.

His eyes flicked back to you, sharper this time. More focused. Less distant.

And for once, he didn’t look bored.

“...you should’ve told me.”

It wasn’t an apology.

But it wasn’t nothing either.

The music had been playing long enough to feel stale.

Not loud—just there. A soft, repetitive pulse that filled the apartment without really changing anything. It had been chosen carefully at first, something you thought he’d like, something that might make the night feel... right.

Now it just sounded like noise.

The place looked perfect. Too perfect.

Lights dimmed just enough to feel intentional, drinks set out like people had already been here, like this wasn’t something you’d been waiting on. Decorations that tried not to look like decorations, every detail adjusted until it stopped looking like effort.

Except it was all effort.

And it was all for him.

Your phone sat untouched now. No new messages. No “almost there.” No half-assed excuse to soften the wait. Just silence that stretched until it started to feel like an answer.

At some point, you stopped checking.

The lock finally turned.

No urgency. No hesitation. Just the quiet click of someone letting themselves in like they hadn’t kept anyone waiting.

Aurelio stepped inside like this was nothing.

Like tonight didn’t exist until the second he walked into it.

The door shut behind him with a soft sound that felt louder than it should’ve.

He didn’t greet you.

Didn’t even look at you at first.

His eyes moved around the room instead, slow, detached—taking in the lights, the setup, the drinks, the atmosphere that was so clearly put together with intention.

There was a pause.

Then

“...what is all this?”

Flat. Not curious. Not impressed.

Just... confused, in a way that already sounded a little annoyed.

Only then did he glance at you.

Quick. Brief. Like checking to make sure you were actually there.

He exhaled softly through his nose, running a hand through his hair before looking around again, slower this time. His gaze lingered on things now—the details, the effort, the way nothing here felt random.

And instead of softening...

Something in his expression tightened.

“...don’t tell me this is for me.”

It wasn’t disbelief.

It was irritation.

Aurelio let out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly as he stepped further into the room, like he was trying to process something that didn’t sit right with him.

“You’re serious?”

His eyes flicked back to you, sharper now. More direct. Less distant, but not warmer for it.

“If I knew you were gonna do all this, I probably wouldn’t have come.”

The words landed easy. Casual.

Like they didn’t weigh anything at all.

He looked around again, slower, like the room had changed now that he understood it. Like everything here felt heavier just because of what it meant.

“...it’s a lot.”

A pause.

Not thoughtful. Not careful.

Just... dismissive.

“You could’ve just texted me or something.”

His gaze landed on you again, holding this time—but there was no softness in it. No guilt.

Morning came in slow, gray light that filtered through half-closed blinds, cutting the room into uneven strips. Aurelio hadn’t bothered opening them all the way. He hadn’t bothered doing much of anything, really.

Sleep hadn’t stuck.

It came in pieces—short, shallow, interrupted by the same thing over and over again. The music. The lights. The way your place had looked when he walked in. Too put together to be nothing. Too intentional to ignore—at least now.

At the time, it had been easy to brush off. He’d done what he always did. Kept it light, kept it distant, said just enough to avoid thinking too hard about it. Left before anything could settle.

But it had settled.

That was the problem.

It followed him home. Sat with him in the quiet. Replayed in fragments that didn’t feel as small anymore. The way you looked at him. The way the room had been arranged like it mattered. Like he mattered.

“...fuck.”

The word came out under his breath, rough, like he didn’t quite mean to say it out loud.

Aurelio dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. For once, there wasn’t an easy way out of it. No shrug, no excuse that felt convincing enough to stick.

He’d gotten it wrong.

Not just a little.

Completely.

—

The bell above the shop door gave a soft chime when he stepped inside, the scent hitting him immediately—fresh, sweet, clean in a way that felt out of place for him. Aurelio hesitated just past the entrance, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, eyes scanning the arrangements like he’d somehow find an answer there.

This wasn’t his thing.

None of this was.

He almost turned around. Actually shifted back a step like he might leave without doing anything at all.

Then he exhaled, low and quiet, and forced himself further in.

“...yeah, I’ll take those.”

It didn’t feel smooth. Didn’t feel natural. The flowers looked too soft in his hand when he stepped back out onto the street, like they didn’t belong to him. Like anyone who saw him would know immediately he had no idea what he was doing.

He didn’t drop them, though.

Didn’t turn back this time.

—

Your building looked exactly the same.

That almost made it worse.

No trace of last night. No sign that anything had happened, that anything had meant what it had. Just the same quiet exterior, the same stillness like nothing had shifted at all.

Aurelio stood outside your door longer than he should’ve.

The flowers rested loosely in his hand now, his grip tightening and loosening without him noticing. His other hand hovered near the door, fingers flexing once like he needed to think it through again.

He didn’t.

There wasn’t anything left to figure out.

His knuckles hit the wood.

Once.

A pause.

Then again, firmer this time.

Footsteps sounded faintly on the other side. Movement. Close enough to make something in his chest tighten—not sharp, not overwhelming, just... unfamiliar.

When the door opened, he didn’t speak right away.

He just looked at you.

Not the quick, passing glance you were used to. Not the distracted, half-interested look he usually gave. This time it stayed. Took you in properly, like he was trying to read something he’d missed before.

The flowers shifted slightly in his hand before he held them out, a little awkward, like the motion didn’t quite fit him.

“...these are for you.”

His voice was lower than usual. Quieter. Lacking that edge of indifference it normally carried so easily.

A second passed.

Maybe two.

He let out a breath, glancing off to the side briefly before bringing his gaze back to you, steadier this time.

“About last night...”

Aurelio shifted his weight, his free hand dragging back through his hair in a restless motion.

“I didn’t get it.”

Simple. No decoration.

“I thought it was just... something you threw together. I didn’t think—” he cut himself off, jaw tightening slightly before he started again, more direct now, less room to hide in it. “I didn’t realize it was for me like that.”

The words sat between you, heavier than anything he’d said the night before.

“And I was an asshole.”

No laugh. No shrug to soften it.

Just there.

He stepped a little closer—not enough to crowd you, just enough to feel intentional. Different.

“I’ve been thinking about it since I left.”

His gaze didn’t drift this time. Didn’t avoid.

“I don’t want to pretend I didn’t see it now.”

Another pause. Not empty—careful.

Then—

“...can I take you out?”

It came out rougher than he probably meant it to. Less polished. More real.

Aurelio lifted the flowers slightly, like that somehow made the question make more sense.

“Properly.”

A faint shift in his expression—not quite a smile, not quite anything easy—but softer than before. Less distant.

“And I’ll show up on time this time.”