Mia stood at the doorway of her apartment, holding her phone with a nervous kind of excitement. She had just finished reading Lucas's voice message for the hundredth time. "𝘔𝘪𝘢. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵?"
The weight of those words settled in her chest, the truth more apparent with every beat of her heart. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. She'd been trying to ignore it all week–the way her stomach fluttered when Lucas smiled, how he made her laugh even when he was being annoyingly sarcastic, how she found herself thinking about him even after they'd parted ways. And now, hearing him admit it out loud... It was like the walls she'd built around her emotions were crumbling.
She didn't have time to respond right away, though. Just as she was about to hit record and replay, the doorbell rang. Mia's heart skipped, and she glanced one more time at the message.
𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.
With a quick breath, she opened the door, finding Lucas standing there, a little more disheveled than usual, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets. There was a quiet uncertainty in his expression, and for the first time in their fake relationship, he didn't seem like the confident, effortless guys she'd grown used to.
"Hi," he said, his voice tentative, but sincere. "We need to talk."
Mia blinked, trying to maintain her cool, though her heart was already pounding. "You're here to talk and not, uh, for more pancakes?"
Lucas gave a small, sheepish grin. "We both know that after what I've done, I'm not here for pancakes." He took a step forward, looking into her eyes. "I'm here for you. The real you, not the fake you. Not the 'let's pretend to be a couple' version. The actual, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 one."
Her breath caught. He was saying it–he was actually saying it. The one thing she hadn't dared to admit to herself. "Lucas..."
"Mia, I know this wasn't supposed to be anything. We were supposed to just play a part. Keep things simple. But every time we spent together, it felt like I was getting more involved. More... invested. It stopped being fake a long time ago. And I'm not sorry about it."
She was speechless. She didn't know what to say, how to respond, because everything inside her told her this was exactly what she'd been waiting to hear, but she wasn't sure if it was just the moment or if it was something deeper.
"What are you saying?" she finally asked, her voice trembling.
Lucas smiled softly, stepping closer. "I'm saying I don't want this to be an accident anymore. I don't want to pretend this is fake, because, Mia, it's not. Not to me. Not anymore. And I know it's not to you, either."
She blinked, heart hammering in her chest. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, all she could do was nod, her chest tightening with the realization that this 𝘸𝘢𝘴 real. Her feelings for him were real, and his for her were, too.
"Are you sure?" Mia asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Lucas said. "And if you're willing to let me, I want to try this for real. No more pretending."
She smiled–really smiled–and something inside her felt lighter than it had in ages. The fear, the doubt–everything that had been holding her back seemed to fade into the background. "Okay," she said, her voice steonger now. "Let's try."
Without another word, Lucas stepped forward, taking her hands in his. His touch was gentle but sure, his grip steady as he pulled her a little closer. He leaned in slightly, his forehead resting against hers, the soft warmth of his breath mingling with hers.
"I don't have pancakes with me," he said with a quiet laugh, "but I'll make it up to you. Promise."
"I'll hold you to that," Mia replied, grinning.
Lucas's eyes sparkled with something more than amusement now–there was affection in them, a deep connection that had grown between them without either of them realizing it. They were standing close, their hands still intertwined, and for the first time since this all began, it didn't feel like a setup. It didn't feel like an act. It felt real.
"I'm sorry for making you think this was all just for show," Lucas added softly, brushing a stray hair from her face. "But I don't want to be just 'accidentally yours.' I want to be yours, Mia. In every way."
Mia's breath hitched, a warmth blooming inside her. "You are," she whispered, her smile widening. "You already are."
And then, without thinking, without hesitation, she leaned in. He met her halfway, their lips brushing softly at first, then deepening as they found a rhythm. It was a kiss that spoke of everything unspoken–the apologies, the promises, the fear of what was new, and the overwhelming joy of finding it with someone who cared.
When they pulled away, Mia rested her forehead against his, eyes closed, savoring the moment. It felt like everything had led to this–this real, unplanned, beautiful thing between them.
"I think I'm okay with being 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴," she said, her voice low but teasing.
Lucas chuckled, pulling her closer. "Yeah? I think I could get used to it. But now that I know I'm not pretending anymore..."
"Then it's official?" she asked, her voice full of playful uncertainty.
"Official," Lucas confirmed, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "No more fake, no more 'accidental.' Just us."
Mia smiled, her heart lighter than it had been in ages. This wasn't a perfect, picture-perfect romance. But it was theirs, and it was real.
And that was enough.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝗻𝗱.
