The Growing Connection

Nathan had scattered his notes across the table next to his MacBook. For now, he had a clear outline for their story's two or three chapters. The introductions were complete, and character profiles had been filled in. Lunaria and Soleil would embark on separate journeys for another chapter before their paths finally intertwined. Nathan anticipated Lunaria would be overwhelmed by the knight's bright smile and warm disposition.

"Those hugs are too warm..." Nathan mumbled softly, his voice barely audible, as his gaze remained fixed on the outline displayed on the screen. His body instinctively remembered the sensation of those strong arms encircling his waist, the enveloping embrace that seemed to radiate comfort and safety. The memory sent a tingling warmth through his veins, a bittersweet reminder of a connection that felt familiar and unnerving.

It took a moment for Nathan to realize where his mind had wandered, his thoughts drifting into dangerous territory. He quickly shook his head, giving his bright red cheeks a light, self-inflicted slap. "No! Soleil is not John. Sheesh, it seems Lunaria's personality is starting to seep into my own," he exclaimed, speaking to the empty air to convince himself of the boundaries he needed to maintain.

With a heavy groan, he rested his head on the table before him, seeking solace in its solid surface. Though undoubtedly enjoyable and cathartic, the writing carried a weight that tugged at his heartstrings. It compelled him to pour his creativity, soul, and emotions into every word. The lines blurred between the fictional realm and his reality, blurring the distinction between Lunaria and himself. Was Johnathan experiencing similar challenges? Every time Nathan observed Johnathan lost in his writing, a bright smile adorning his face, his animated expressions mirroring Soleil's, it was as if Johnathan had tapped into a realm where fiction and reality intertwined. The depth of his connection to Soleil seemed to transcend the pages as if he could feel every heartbeat, every triumph, and every sacrifice she made.

The weight of these thoughts lingered, filling the room with palpable tension. Nathan couldn't help but wonder if Johnathan's experiences mirrored his own if they were both struggling with the delicate dance between writer and character. It was a dance of vulnerability, where the lines between their own identities and the characters they brought to life began to blur. As the rain continued its gentle pitter-patter outside, Nathan's chest was filled with unspoken emotions, a silent symphony of longing, uncertainty, and the potential for a connection beyond their written world's confines.

Suddenly, the table shook, jolting Nathan from his thoughts, his phone buzzing against the smooth wooden surface. With a flicker of anticipation, he glimpsed the lock screen, revealing Johnathan's name and picture. A surge of curiosity rippled through him—had Johnathan somehow read his mind? Could he have deduced that Nathan had been pondering his presence? No, that couldn't be right. Nathan had been consumed by thoughts of the assignment, not Johnathan himself.

With a series of exasperated groans, Nathan finally summoned the courage to glance at the message. As his eyes darted across the words, an imaginary echo of Johnathan's vibrant voice and boundless enthusiasm reverberated in his mind. The scent of Johnathan's cologne seemed to permeate the air, teasing his senses and evoking memories of warm, tight hugs that enveloped him in a comforting embrace.

"Nate, want to meet up? I could use a break from writing and studying. I know it's raining, but perhaps it's a good change of pace?"

Nathan bit his lip, his gaze locked on the message, reading and rereading the words repeatedly. The prospect of going out held little appeal for him. If given a choice, he would much rather spend the evening nestled on his couch, losing himself in an anime series binge, or immersing himself in the pages of a new volume from his cherished collection of light novels.

"Well, you don't have to if you're busy. We can always do it another day?"

A pang of guilt coursed through Nathan's body as he read the text. The warmth he felt from Johnathan's invitation faded, replaced by a cold sadness. Why was Johnathan suddenly retracting the offer? Had the invitation been a mere jest? Had Johnathan not been sincere?

"Who said I didn't want to? I was thinking about where we could go in this weather. But you'd also need to give me some time to get changed. I didn't expect to be going out today."

Nathan's response was sent without a second thought, a knee-jerk reaction without careful consideration. For some reason, the idea of going out somewhere with Johnathan felt...nice. Maybe it indeed would be a refreshing change of pace.

"A movie, perhaps? Or should we go to a restaurant? If you don't feel like going out, I could come to your place?"

Was this an invitation typically extended to someone you had only known for a few days? Was Johnathan suggesting places one would take a potential date? God, this was precisely why Nathan disliked meeting new people. He had a handful of close friends with whom he often texted or chatted. Occasionally, they would gather at a restaurant to celebrate birthdays or spend time together. But this? This was a first. He would not allow Johnathan into his messy apartment if he knew the actual state of disarray.

"I hate to admit it, but my place is a mess. Classes, work, and assignments have consumed all my time. Perhaps another time?"

What other time? What was Nathan even saying? And, of course, Johnathan had already read the message. The icons on the screen indicated that Johnathan had immediately begun typing a response. If only Nathan could retreat to a corner and weep right now.

"I don't mind at all! I'll even cook for you. Please? I'm on the verge of losing my mind due to the workload, and I'd love to discuss our next chapters with you. Watch a movie. Or play a game? I have a vast collection of board and card games! It's like a dragon's hoard. You mentioned that about your light novels, right?"

Nathan had to set his phone down on the table, his heart pounding in his ears as his vision blurred slightly. His face burned with embarrassment, and he could barely stop hyperventilating. What was happening to his body? Was he experiencing a panic attack?

Closing his eyes, he focused on breathing, inhaling, and exhaling to steady himself. Everything would be okay. They were simply two partners working on an assignment, two individuals who would engage in a friendly game night. Nothing more. There was no way they could become friends, especially not with someone as bright and extroverted as Johnathan.

"Bring some games. I'll tidy up. But don't expect too much," Nathan finally replied, sending photos of his disheveled fridge and cluttered cabinets shortly after.

It was time to clean up. He could only engage in a friendly chat and play some games. They would discuss the chapters they had written. Just board games and chill, right?