The end of the semester came faster than I expected. We submitted our final robotics project, the weeks of long nights and frantic studying behind us. It felt like a weight had been lifted. There was a palpable buzz in the air as everyone gathered at my place to celebrate, the atmosphere light and carefree for the first time in what felt like months.
Ender, of course, had baked a cake. I didn’t even have to ask—he just knew. A rich, decadent chocolate cake sat on the counter, carefully frosted and decorated with precision that only Ender could bring to something so simple.
The apartment was filled with laughter and the smell of freshly baked cake, the team lounging around in various states of exhaustion and relief. Gemma had outdone herself, surprising us all with custom-made shirts. They were bright yellow—the same shade as our project group’s color—and had a witty phrase printed on them: “Yellow Group: We Put the ‘Bot’ in Robot!”
I chuckled as I pulled mine over my head, the fabric soft and fitting perfectly. “You really went all out, Gemma,” I said, grinning at her.
She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, we earned it! And besides, I couldn’t resist the pun.”
Theo snorted from the couch. “I think I’ll be living in this shirt from now on.”
Brighton grinned, inspecting his shirt before slipping it on. “Guess we’re officially the coolest group in class.”
Gemma beamed proudly. “Damn right we are.”
As the night wore on, the mood lightened even more. At some point, someone turned on music—probably Gemma—and before I knew it, the living room had turned into an impromptu dance floor. Theo and Brighton were already making fools of themselves, dancing like no one was watching. Gemma wasn’t far behind, her infectious energy pulling Lain and me into the mix.
“Come on, Seren!” Gemma laughed, pulling me out of my seat. “You’ve been sitting too long. It’s time to celebrate!”
I rolled my eyes, but a smile crept onto my face as I joined in, moving to the beat of the music. It was ridiculous and fun, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself relax.
Ender stood by the kitchen, watching us with his usual calm, though I could see a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He tilted his head, observing our movements as if calculating the purpose of this spontaneous activity.
“Ender, get over here!” Theo called, waving him over. “You can’t just stand there like some bystander. You’re part of this group too!”
Gemma laughed, her eyes twinkling as she chimed in. “Yeah, come on! Show us your moves!”
Ender hesitated, his gaze flicking from me to the others. I caught his eyes and smiled, nodding encouragingly. “Come on, Ender. You deserve to celebrate too.”
He paused for a moment longer, clearly analyzing the situation, before stepping forward. “Very well,” he said, his tone light but with the tiniest hint of amusement.
The moment Ender joined us, the room erupted into cheers. Theo immediately started trying to teach him some ridiculous dance move, which Ender attempted with his usual precision, though it was clear he was unfamiliar with the concept of spontaneous dancing. Still, he moved with enough grace that it almost looked like he was trying to replicate what Theo was doing. It was both impressive and endearing.
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We danced and laughed for several songs, the stress of the semester melting away in the joy of the moment. Even Ender, who usually observed more than participated, seemed to relax in his own way, joining in the celebration with a quiet smile that made my heart swell.
Then, as the playlist shuffled through, a familiar melody began to play—a slow, soulful tune that instantly made me smile.
“I Will Always Love You” by Whitney Houston.
“Oh, yes!” Gemma squealed, clapping her hands. “It’s time for a slow dance, people!”
Theo grinned, immediately pulling her into his arms as they swayed to the music. Brighton caught Lain’s eye, and with a playful wink, he offered her his hand. Lain chuckled but accepted, letting him lead her onto the makeshift dance floor.
I stood there, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place. But before I could slip away unnoticed, Ender stepped forward, his expression gentle as he extended his hand to me.
“Seren,” he said softly, “would you dance with me?”
My heart skipped a beat, my cheeks flushing as I nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Ender’s hand enveloped mine, cool but steady, as he guided me toward the center of the room. He moved with such ease, his steps smooth and calculated, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made the moment feel less technical and more… intimate.
As we swayed to the rhythm of the song, Ender’s hand rested lightly on my waist, and I found myself leaning into him, my head resting against his chest. He wasn’t warm—not yet—but the coolness of his body didn’t bother me. It was Ender. And that was all that mattered.
The room seemed to fade away as we moved together, the soft hum of Whitney Houston’s voice filling the air. I could feel the subtle pressure of his touch, the way he adjusted his movements to match mine. It was simple, but there was something deeply comforting about it—about being here, with him, in this quiet moment.
For a brief moment, I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the sensation. The others were still dancing, laughing softly as they spun each other around, but I was focused entirely on Ender, on the way his presence calmed the lingering nerves inside me.
“You’re quiet,” Ender murmured, his voice low but filled with that gentle attentiveness he always carried.
“Just… thinking,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.
He didn’t press for more, but I could tell he was curious. His hand tightened slightly on my waist, as if offering reassurance without words.
As the song played on, I felt a flutter of something—an unspoken wish, a hope that one day, moments like this wouldn’t feel so… distant. That maybe, with the mods, we could share this closeness on a deeper level. That he wouldn’t just be a cool presence against me but a warmth I could sink into.
When the song ended, the room broke into light applause and laughter, but Ender and I stayed still for a moment longer, our connection lingering even as the music faded.
“I think,” I whispered, looking up at him, “I think I’m ready for the mods.”
Ender’s eyes softened, his hand still resting on my waist. “I’m glad,” he said quietly. “I want to share that with you.”
As the night wound down, the conversation inevitably shifted toward the mods. Brighton and Theo had been itching to get started, and now that the semester was over, we finally had the time.
“All hands on deck tomorrow,” Brighton said, leaning back against the couch. “We’re getting those mods done for you, Ender. No more delays.”
Theo grinned, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, we’re gonna make sure you’re all set for the next chapter of your existence, man.”
Ender nodded thoughtfully, his gaze steady. “I appreciate all of your help. The modifications will allow me to deepen my connection with Seren and experience more of what it means to be… connected.”
There was a brief pause as his words settled in, and I felt my face flush slightly, though I managed to keep my expression neutral. The thought of Ender being warm—of feeling his touch in a way that was more than just pressure data—made my heart race in a way I wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.
“Don’t worry, Seren,” Gemma teased, winking at me. “We’ll make sure he’s in good hands. No need to get all flustered.”
I shot her a look, trying to play it cool. “I’m not flustered. I just—”
“Uh-huh,” Theo interjected, grinning like an idiot. “Sure you’re not.”
I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”
Lain smiled softly, leaning over to nudge me. “It’s okay to admit it, Seren. You care about him. And these mods are only going to make that connection stronger.”
“Alright,” I said, my voice firm but laced with affection. “Let’s do it. Let’s make Ender warm.”