That night, after the bathroom, Ita didn't sleep right away.
He sat on the edge of his bed, towel still around his shoulders, staring at the floor as his damp hair dripped quietly onto his shirt.
He kept waiting.
Waiting for the whisper.
For the cold breath against his ear.
For something to move in the corner of the room.
But nothing came.
The silence felt strange.
Almost suspicious.
He lay down slowly, body tense, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Every small sound made him flinch . the creak of the house, the distant hum of a car outside, the faint ticking of the clock.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Still nothing.
No shadows stretching.
No shapes in the darkness.
No weight pressing on his chest.
Just quiet.
Ita didn't realize when he finally fell asleep.
Morning came softly.
No shouting.
No footsteps storming toward his room.
Just light slipping in through the thin curtains.
He opened his eyes slowly, confused.
For a moment, he forgot where he was. Forgot everything.
Then reality came rushing back.
The bathroom.
The hair.
The mirror.
His heart picked up, but as he listened, the house remained still.
Too still.
He sat up carefully, wincing at the soreness in his body. His hand brushed against his phone on the mattress. A new message from Kiel lit up the screen.
"Holiday today. You alive?"
Ita stared at the words for a long moment.
Then, quietly, something formed in his chest.
An idea.
Small. Fragile.
But strong enough.
He swallowed.
His feet touched the floor, and he stood up slowly. Each step toward the door felt heavier than the last.
The hallway was dim. The air felt thick.
His mother was in the kitchen.
He could hear plates clinking. The sound of a chair dragging. The low murmur of the television.
Ita stopped at the edge of the doorway.
His hands felt cold.
He had never asked to go anywhere before.
Never asked for anything.
He almost turned back.
But then he thought of Kiel's room. The warmth. The laughter at breakfast. The way no one raised their voice.
He forced himself to take another step.
"Mom…"
The word came out quiet. Careful.
She turned slowly.
Her eyes were sharp, already irritated, like she had been waiting for something to be wrong.
"What?" she asked.
Ita's throat tightened.
"I… I was thinking…" He hesitated, fingers curling slightly. "Can I go to my friend's house today?"
Silence.
Her expression changed.
At first, she looked angry. Suspicious.
Like she was trying to figure out what he was hiding.
"You have a friend?" she asked, voice flat.
Ita nodded slowly. "Yes."
She stared at him longer than necessary.
The seconds stretched.
His heart pounded so loudly he was sure she could hear it.
"Who?" she demanded.
"Kiel."
Another pause.
She looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time. Like this was something strange. Something unfamiliar.
Because it was.
Ita never asked for permission.
Never asked to go anywhere.
Never asked for anything at all.
Her eyes narrowed.
Then, unexpectedly, her shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Fine ." she said.
The word hit him like a shock.
"But don't be late."
Ita blinked.
"Thank you." he said quickly, almost too fast.
She didn't reply. Just turned back to the sink.
But she hadn't said no.
That was enough.
The walk to Kiel's house felt different this time.
Lighter.
Even the air felt easier to breathe.
He reached the door and stood there for a moment, staring at it.
His hand hovered near the doorbell.
What if they were busy?
What if he was bothering them?
He almost turned away.
Then the door suddenly opened.
Kiel stood there, hair messy, wearing an oversized shirt.
He blinked once.
Then his face lit up.
"Ita?!" he said. "You came!"
Ita nodded, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands.
"I… Is it okay?"
"Of course it's okay!" Kiel laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. "Mom! Ita's here!"
Warmth hit him immediately.
The house smelled like food again.
Voices. Soft music playing somewhere in the background.
Kiel's mother appeared from the kitchen, smiling brightly when she saw him.
"Oh! Ita, hello," she said gently. "You came to visit again."
Ita nodded, a little awkward. "Sorry if I-"
"No, no," she cut in kindly. "You're always welcome here."
Those words settled deep inside his chest.
Always welcome.
Kiel's father waved from the living room, greeting him like it was the most normal thing in the world.
No suspicion.
No sharp questions.
No tension.
Just warmth.
Just kindness.
Like the first time.
Maybe even more.
Kiel shoved a drink into his hand and started talking immediately, rambling about something funny that happened online. Ita listened quietly, standing there, feeling the tightness in his shoulders slowly melt away.
For the first time in a long while,
He felt safe again.
Like he could breathe.
Like he wasn't being watched.
Like nothing was waiting in the dark.
And for that moment, surrounded by gentle voices and soft laughter, Ita let himself believe that maybe,
Just for today,
He could pretend this was what home felt like.