Steven’s POV
The doorbell rang sometime after breakfast.
Which meant I had spent the entire morning pretending I was not waiting for it.
Badly.
Aqua had noticed.
Fang had noticed.
I was pretty sure the house had noticed.
I sat on the couch with one knee bouncing, one arm stretched along the back cushion, and Fang coiled beside me like an unimpressed witness to the slow collapse of my dignity.
Aqua stood at the kitchen counter, rinsing out our cups and pretending she was not also aware that every tiny sound from outside made my head turn.
She was kinder about it than Fang.
Fang had opinions.
I could feel them.
Patient.
Dry.
Deeply unnecessary.
I looked down at him.
“Don’t start.”
Fang lifted his head a fraction.
I have said nothing.
“You were about to.”
Your leg is doing enough talking for both of us.
I narrowed my eyes.
“That counts.”
Aqua glanced over her shoulder.
“Are you arguing with Fang?”
“No.”
Fang’s amusement brushed the bond.
I scowled at him.
Aqua dried her hands slowly, her expression softening in that way that told me she knew exactly how tense I was and was trying not to make it worse by pointing at it.
That almost made it worse.
I did not want to be tense.
I wanted to be normal.
Or at least close enough to normal that nobody could tell the difference from across the room.
But apparently, when someone told me Fredrick Worth’s son was coming to train me because I had messed up badly enough to need outside help, my body decided the correct response was to turn into one long, irritated nerve.
The doorbell rang.
I looked up so fast my neck almost protested.
Aqua looked up too.
Fang lifted his head.
For one stupid second, nobody moved.
Then Aqua set the towel down.
“That would be him,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Figured.”
She glanced at me before she left the kitchen.
“You do not have to look like that.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
Aqua gave me the kind of look that suggested I was, in fact, doing several things.
Then she walked to the door.
I stood before I could think better of it.
Not because I was nervous.
Obviously.
Just because sitting while some trained Worth guy came into my house felt wrong.
Like I was waiting to be inspected.
Which, unfortunately, I probably was.
Aqua opened the door.
The man standing there looked exactly like someone Fredrick Worth would send.
Tall. Lean. Broad enough through the shoulders to look capable without making a show of it. Brown hair swept back in a neat, effortless way that probably took effort. Blue-green eyes that caught the morning light strangely, like the green in them was waiting for the right angle to show itself. A dress shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Dark pants. Hands in his pockets like standing on someone else’s porch meant absolutely nothing to him.
That part annoyed me immediately.
Why were his hands in his pockets?
Who showed up to meet an unstable fire-user for the first time and stood there looking that relaxed?
Aqua blinked once, polite and curious.
The man gave her a small nod.
“I’m Dylan Worth,” he said. “Fredrick’s son.”
Aqua’s expression softened at once.
That bothered me.
Which was stupid.
She was being polite. She was allowed to be polite. I liked polite Aqua.
I just liked it better when the person receiving it was not tall, calm, around my age, and standing in my doorway like he had never been awkward a day in his life.
Fang’s amusement brushed the bond again.
Jealous?
My jaw tightened.
No.
He is here to train you, not steal Aqua.
I know that.
Then perhaps inform your face.
I looked down at him.
“Don’t start.”
Fang only rested his head back down, entirely too pleased with himself.
Aqua stepped back slightly from the doorway.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Aqua.”
Dylan’s eyes shifted over her face for just a second, and I could tell from the subtle change in his expression that he already knew exactly who she was.
“Princess Aqua,” he said.
Aqua smiled a little.
“Just Aqua is fine.”
His gaze moved past her then and landed on me.
“Steven.”
Not a question.
Not warm either.
Just certain.
Like he had already confirmed who I was before I opened my mouth.
I folded my arms.
“That’s me.”
Aqua, apparently deciding the room needed more help than either of us were willing to provide, stepped farther aside and gestured him in.
“Please, come in.”
Dylan crossed the threshold with the same contained calm, taking in the entryway and living room in one quick sweep.
Quick enough to be polite.
Thorough enough to feel like an assessment anyway.
That irritated me too.
Was he really so unbothered that he could walk into my house looking like he was touring a place he already understood?
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His eyes moved over the couch.
The table.
The windows.
The kitchen.
The back doors.
Then he looked toward Fang.
Aqua followed his line of sight and said gently, “This is Steven’s familiar and best friend, Fang.”
Fang lifted his head from the back cushion with exactly the amount of dignity he believed that introduction deserved.
Dylan’s attention settled on him for one brief second longer than it had on anything else.
“I see,” he said.
That was it.
No flinch.
No visible surprise.
No weird instinctive reaction to a snake on the couch, like this was completely normal.
Which somehow made him feel even stranger.
Aqua motioned toward the sitting area.
“Would you like some tea?”
Dylan glanced at her, then gave one short nod.
“If it isn’t trouble.”
“It isn’t.”
She moved back into the kitchen before I could decide whether I was annoyed that she was playing hostess to him or relieved that someone in the room still knew how to behave like a decent person.
Dylan remained standing for another second.
Then he moved farther into the room, glancing around with that same irritating ease.
I watched him do it and hated how much it got under my skin.
He looked too relaxed.
Not careless.
Just not threatened.
Like he was not walking into a tense situation at all.
Like there was not a reason Fredrick had sent him here.
Like I was not some problem he had to measure carefully.
He stopped near the bookshelf and looked toward the backyard doors.
I narrowed my eyes a little.
“Do you always walk around like that?”
Dylan turned his head toward me.
“Like what?”
“With your hands in your pockets.”
His gaze dropped briefly, like he had not even noticed.
Then he looked back at me.
“Usually.”
I stared at him.
That answer somehow annoyed me more than if he had said yes.
He was not trying to prove anything.
He just existed like that.
Relaxed. Contained. Like he had no reason to put himself on guard in my house.
I hated that I noticed it.
I hated more that some part of me wondered if maybe that was what real control looked like.
You are offended by pockets now?
I ignored Fang.
Aqua came back into the room with a tray and set it on the coffee table like she was determined to make this meeting resemble civilization.
Tea.
Cups.
A small plate of biscuits.
Dylan took one of the chairs.
Not the couch.
No, he took the chair like he had already decided where he belonged in the room.
I stayed where I was, half leaning against the wall near the kitchen because sitting down felt too much like agreeing to the whole thing.
Aqua poured the tea.
Dylan accepted his cup with a brief nod.
“Thank you.”
Aqua sat on the end of the couch near Fang and looked between us with the patient expression of someone who already knew she was the only reason this conversation had not turned worse.
Dylan set the cup down after a sip and looked at me directly.
“My father told me enough to understand the basics.”
My shoulders tightened.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
His tone stayed even.
“You awakened late. Your control is inconsistent. You have strong output, poor foundation, and a tendency to overcorrect when emotionally pressured.”
The room went still.
There was no cruelty in the words.
That somehow made them land harder.
I stared at him.
Aqua’s fingers tightened slightly around her cup.
Fang went very still beside her.
I let out one quiet breath through my nose.
“Wow,” I said. “Good morning to you too.”
Dylan did not blink.
“I was told directness would be more useful than comfort.”
I looked toward Aqua.
She looked back with an apologetic softness that made me very aware she had probably not told him that.
Fredrick had.
That sounded exactly like Fredrick.
I turned back to Dylan.
“So that’s what this is? You came here to list everything wrong with me?”
“No.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I came to meet you before training begins.”
That made me frown.
“Before?”
“Yes.”
I straightened a little.
“So we’re not training today?”
“No.”
I stared at him.
He looked entirely unbothered by how irritating that answer was.
“You came here to… what? Size me up?”
Dylan considered that for half a second.
“Yes.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the honesty was so annoying I didn’t know what else to do with it.
“Oh. How nice of you.”
Aqua gave me a look.
I ignored it.
Dylan did not react to the sarcasm.
Not visibly.
He just sat there with that infuriating steadiness, like people snapping at him was weather and he had already dressed for it.
“I need to know who I am training before I begin,” Dylan said.
“Lucky me.”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
He really said that like it was simply the correct answer.
Not smug.
Not mocking.
Just plain.
I did not know whether I wanted to punch him or respect him.
Probably both.
Fang’s quiet amusement brushed the bond again.
Progress. You have narrowed it down to two reasonable options.
My eyes cut toward him.
“Not helping.”
Aqua set her cup down and leaned forward a little.
“I think what Dylan means,” she said gently, “is that he wants to understand where you are before he starts correcting anything.”
Dylan gave one small nod.
“Yes.”
That should not have helped.
It did not help.
I looked at him harder.
He did not look cruel.
He did not even look especially interested, which was somehow almost worse.
He looked like someone carrying out a task he had already accepted.
Controlled. Polite. Thorough.
“You’ve already been told a lot, then,” I said.
“A reasonable amount.”
I almost laughed.
“Is that what Fredrick calls it?”
Dylan did not seem offended.
“He told me enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“To know training should have started before now.”
That one hit.
Hard.
I looked away for half a second, jaw working.
Then back at him.
“Well, good thing you’re here now.”
Dylan tilted his head just slightly.
“Exactly.”
Aqua’s gaze moved between us, quiet and careful.
I could feel her trying to keep the room from catching fire without actually saying anything that sounded like she was trying to keep the room from catching fire.
That made me feel worse.
Because I knew I was part of the reason the room felt like that.
I hated that too.
“So what happens tomorrow?” I asked.
Dylan’s eyes stayed on mine.
“Assessment.”
“More sizing up.”
“More specific sizing up.”
I stared at him.
Aqua pressed her lips together like she was trying very hard not to smile.
I shot her a look.
“You’re enjoying this?”
“No,” she said too quickly.
Fang lifted his head.
I pointed at him.
“You either.”
Dylan watched the exchange without comment, though something in his expression shifted very slightly.
Not amusement exactly.
Maybe observation.
Right.
Everything with him was probably observation.
He looked toward the backyard again.
“The field behind the house?”
I nodded once.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll see it properly tomorrow.”
That made me bristle.
“Properly?”
“I prefer to assess the training environment before I start correcting mistakes inside it.”
That was such an annoyingly reasonable sentence that I couldn’t even attack it properly.
So I settled for a glare.
Aqua, unbelievably, looked relieved.
“That sounds fair.”
I looked at her.
“You’re really on his side already?”
Aqua blinked.
“I am on the side of you getting help.”
That shut me up faster than I wanted it to.
Dylan picked up his tea again, took one more sip, and set the cup down with the same neatness he seemed to do everything with.
“I will meet you at the training field tomorrow morning,” he said. “Nine sharp.”
I folded my arms tighter.
“You always this formal?”
“Yes.”
Again.
Just yes.
Like he had no idea how annoying one-word answers could be when delivered by someone who looked like he had never lost an argument because he had never cared enough to enter one.
Dylan stood a second later, business apparently complete.
No lingering.
No extra conversation.
No forced friendliness.
Just that.
Aqua stood too.
“All right. Thank you for coming.”
Dylan inclined his head once toward her.
Then toward me.
Then, after the briefest pause, toward Fang.
I watched him walk back toward the front door with his hands in his pockets again and had the deeply irrational urge to be offended by how relaxed his posture still was.
Aqua opened the door for him.
He stepped out, then turned back only enough to say, “Be punctual.”
Then he left.
Just like that.
Aqua closed the door and turned around slowly.
The house felt quieter without him in it.
Not better exactly.
Just less… assessed.
For a second, none of us said anything.
Then I looked toward the door and muttered, “Nine sharp. Great. Even my humiliation has a schedule.”
Aqua’s mouth twitched.
Fang’s amusement slid through the bond like a warm, smug ribbon.
At least now it is organized.
I glared at him.
“Do you ever stop?”
When you stop making it easy.
Aqua finally laughed softly.
I looked at her.
“What?”
“He seems nice,” she said.
I stared at her.
“Nice?”
Aqua tilted her head.
“Serious.”
“That is not the same word.”
Her lips twitched.
“No. But it is the one I meant.”
I dragged a hand over the back of my neck and looked toward the front door.
“He came all the way here just to look at me and tell me training starts tomorrow.”
Aqua’s expression softened.
“I think he came to make tomorrow less abrupt.”
I gave her a look.
“That was less abrupt?”
A tiny smile threatened her mouth.
“For Dylan, perhaps.”
I looked toward the door again.
“He walks around like he’s not even a little worried.”
“Maybe that is because he knows what he is doing.”
That answer annoyed me because it sounded possible.
I kept staring at the door even after Dylan was gone.
Aqua noticed.
“What?”
I frowned a little.
“Are Worths usually like that?”
Aqua tilted her head.
“Like what?”
“Reserved,” I said. “Calm. Like they only say exactly what needs to be said and then stop talking.” I paused. “Like they don’t really… show much.”
Aqua thought about it for a second before answering.
“From what I know? Yes. More than most.”
I folded my arms again, though this time it felt more thoughtful than defensive.
“So that’s just a Worth thing?”
“I think control matters a great deal to them,” she said. “Logic too. They do not seem to like being ruled by emotion.”
I looked toward the couch.
Fang was still stretched along the back cushion, watching me with the same unreadable patience he always wore when he thought I was close to figuring something out on my own.
I looked back at Aqua.
“Dad was kind of like that too.”
That made her expression shift.
Not alarmed.
Just thoughtful.
“He may have seemed that way,” she said carefully. “But I do not think you are describing the same thing.”
I frowned.
“How do you mean?”
Aqua leaned lightly against the back of the couch.
“Dylan feels contained,” she said. “Your father sounds colder than that. More hidden. More deliberate.”
That landed.
Because yeah.
That was closer.
Dylan had felt controlled.
Dad had felt absent even when he was in the room.
I rubbed at the back of my neck.
“So what does that make me?”
Aqua’s lips curved a little.
“You?”
“Yeah.”
She looked at me for one long second, like she was deciding how honest to be.
Then she smiled.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve.”
I blinked.
“Really?”
Aqua gave me a look that was somehow both gentle and very much yes.
“Yes, really.”
I glanced toward Fang.
He gave one small, unhelpful nod.
“Wow,” I muttered. “Glad everyone’s enjoying this.”
That made Aqua laugh softly.
Then she stepped closer.
Closer than before.
And when she spoke again, her voice softened.
“That is one of the reasons I love you.”
That stopped me.
Completely.
For a second, I just stared at her.
Aqua’s cheeks pinked a little after she said it, like she knew exactly how much those words would hit me and had decided to say them anyway.
“You are different from anyone I have ever known,” she said quietly. “You care deeply. You show it. You try to be better, even when things are hard. And…” She smiled, smaller this time. “You love your family very openly. I noticed that first.”
Something in my chest tightened in the best and worst way all at once.
Warm.
Sudden.
Too full.
Before I could think of anything useful to say, Aqua rose up slightly and gave me a soft peck on the lips.
Not long.
Not dramatic.
Just enough to make my entire train of thought derail.
She pulled back with that same soft blush still in her cheeks.
And for one stupid, honest second, I genuinely could not tell if the flutter in my chest was my Beast Core reacting to her love or just my actual heart forgetting how to behave.
I looked at her like an idiot.
Aqua’s smile deepened slightly, like she knew exactly what she had done.
Then she added, “And you are not nearly as difficult to read as you think.”
That finally got a breath of laughter out of me.
I rubbed a hand over my face and shook my head.
“Great,” I said. “So I’m emotionally obvious.”
Aqua nodded once, very pleased with herself.
“Yes.”
Fang nodded again from the couch.
“Traitors,” I muttered.
Aqua laughed softly, and the sound of it settled something in me I had not realized was still pulled too tight.
Tomorrow Dylan would come back.
Tomorrow training would actually start.
Tomorrow I would probably find out exactly how bad Fredrick’s version of help was going to be.
And yes, some part of me was already standing in the field, trying to decide what kind of person Dylan Worth really was.
But for one quiet moment in the morning light, with Aqua close enough to still feel and Fang watching us both like an unimpressed witness to my entire emotional life, the house felt warm.
Lived in.
Safe, almost.
And maybe that was enough for today.