Work Text:
Anthony had never owned so many paper clips in his life.
It was not an exaggeration. Until recently, he had possessed perhaps half a dozen—and even those had been acquired accidentally. He had tossed them in drawers with little thought and minimal consequence.
And yet, over the last six months, they had begun appearing in his flat at an alarming rate.
On the small table beside the sofa.
In the shallow dish near the door where they kept their keys.
One time, inexplicably, next to his shampoo in the shower.
Once, he had found one tucked into the pages of a book he had not touched in years—left precisely where she had abandoned it mid-thought.
They appeared by the dozens at work—clipped neatly to lecture notes, articles to review, papers to grade.
Anthony turned one over now between his fingers, smiling to himself at the thin curve of metal.
Because there was only one possible explanation for this sudden and inexplicable abundance.
Dr. Kathani Sharma.
The other changes had been gradual.
Her clothes had appeared in the closet in small clusters, hanging beside his shirts and jackets like they had always belonged there. Her soap now occupied the shelf in the corner of the shower. Whatever book she was currently reading rested dog-eared and bookmarked on the end table next to her side of his bed.
Even Newton had begun trotting through the flat as though he had always lived there, his nails clicking briskly against the hardwood floor as he set off in pursuit of mischief.
Anthony had accounted for all of those things.
But the paper clips—much like Kate herself—he never saw coming.
“You look troubled,” Kate said, glancing up from her laptop.
Anthony was leaning against the doorframe, still holding the rogue metal piece that he had found on the sofa’s armrest between his fingers like evidence in a crime.
“They’re multiplying,” he said gravely.
Kate bit back a smile, her eyes dropping back to the email she was answering. “That’s a bit dramatic.”
“This is the fifth one I’ve found today.”
“You secretly love it.”
“I—”
He meant to argue—and stopped.
Because she was right.
“I love you.”
The words landed between them before he could stop them.
Kate’s hands stilled above her keyboard.
Anthony blinked, as though only just realizing what he had said.
“I—” He let out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “That was not how I intended to say that.”
Kate turned toward him fully now.
But he was already continuing, because stopping felt impossible.
“I just—” He gestured vaguely with the paper clip, searching. “These. You. The way you leave pieces of yourself everywhere like you expect to come back. Like they’re tracks, all leading me back to you.”
His voice softened, steadied without losing its honesty.
“And I find them,” he said. “All the time. Without looking.”
A beat.
“And I think—” He stopped, then shook his head slightly. “No. I don’t think. I just…”
His grip tightened slightly around the metal.
“I love you.”
This time, he meant to say it.
“You got all that from…a paper clip?”
Anthony glanced down at the small twist of metal in his fingers.
“In my defense,” he said carefully. “There were several.”
Kate studied him for a moment longer—something softer, quieter settling in her expression.
“That may be the most ridiculous declaration of love in recorded history,” she said, catching his hand and pulling him closer to her.
“Ridiculous does not equate to insincere.”
“Good,” she said, smiling up at him.
She slipped another clip from the stack of papers in front of her and pressed it into his palm. “Because I love you too.”
Anthony closed his fingers around it, certain he would find it again later—somewhere unexpected, but exactly where it belonged.