Chapter Text
The restaurant was warm in a way Mars still wasn’t used to.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The kind of warmth that settled into the air through low conversation, clinking porcelain, and soft music somewhere in the background. Human places were always full of little sounds layered together until they became something alive.
Mars preferred quieter environments.
And yet, somehow, he kept ending up wherever Earth invited him.
Tonight, it was a small tea restaurant hidden between narrow streets glowing gold beneath the evening lights.
The owner greeted Earth the moment they walked inside.
Warmly, too.
Mars had the strange impression she’d probably been remembered long before the door even opened.
That happened often with Earth.
Even now, sitting across from him beside the rain-fogged window, she still drew glances without seeming aware of any of them. Steam drifted slowly upward from the cup in her hands while her coat rested neatly over the chair beside her. Dark glasses hid her eyes completely as she listened quietly to the soft murmur of the restaurant around them.
Most people noticed her blindness first.
Then immediately mistook gentleness for fragility.
Mars had stopped making that mistake a long time ago.
Earth moved through unfamiliar places with a certainty that sometimes felt almost irrational, guided by memory, sound, and stubborn instinct. She noticed things other people completely missed — the hesitation before someone answered, the shift in footsteps across a room, the difference between real silence and the kind people created when they were thinking too much.
Usually about things they didn’t want her noticing.
Which was unfortunate for Mars.
“You’re staring again.”
Mars nearly choked on his tea before grabbing a napkin. “How did you know that?”
A small smile appeared at the corner of Earth’s mouth as she lifted the cup again. “Your silence changes.”
“That sentence still doesn’t make sense.”
“It does to me.”
Outside, rain blurred the city lights into long golden streaks across the glass while somewhere deeper in the restaurant porcelain clinked softly beneath the hum of quiet conversation.
Mars looked back at her.
Wrong decision.
Earth always seemed like she belonged in places like this — warm lights, quiet music, porcelain cups resting between delicate hands. Meanwhile Mars still felt faintly like he’d brought part of the storm inside with him.
“You’re doing it again,” Earth murmured, fingers curled loosely around her tea.
“Doing what?”
“Thinking too hard.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
Her laughter slipped out softly enough that Mars lowered his gaze to his drink before he embarrassed himself reacting to it.
The server stopped briefly beside their table to refill the cups. Earth thanked them automatically before brushing her fingertips absentmindedly along the warm porcelain afterward.
Mars watched the movement without meaning to.
Earth touched things carefully.
Not cautiously.
Differently.
As though she listened through her hands the same way other people listened through sound.
Once, she’d recognized Venus only from the sound of bracelets shifting against her wrist. Another time, she identified Jupiter before he even spoke because the floor vibrated slightly beneath his footsteps.
Earth called it rhythm.
Mars still wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that.
He only knew she understood people far too easily.
Especially him.
“Mars?”
He looked up immediately. “Hm?”
Earth tilted her head slightly toward him. “Can I ask you something?”
Suspicion crossed his face so quickly it almost made her laugh.
“That depends.”
“You always say that.”
“Because every time you sound innocent, my life becomes significantly worse.”
Now she laughed properly.
Soft.
Bright.
God.
Mars was beginning to think she enjoyed watching him suffer.
“Relax,” Earth said, smiling into her tea. “It’s a simple question.”
“That sentence has literally never ended well for me.”
“Mars.”
He sighed into his drink. “Fine. Ask.”
Earth rested her chin lightly against one hand for a moment before speaking again.
“May I touch your hand?”
Mars froze so suddenly the porcelain tapped softly against the saucer.
Outside, rain pressed steadily against the windows.
“My what?”
“Your hand.”
“I heard you the first time.”
“Then why are you acting confused?”
“Because normal people don’t ask things like that over tea.”
Earth smiled faintly. “I’m blind, not normal.”
Mars opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Unfortunately, that was difficult to argue against.
“That still proves nothing.”
Mars glanced toward the fogged-up window, though the slight movement at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Outside, rain continued slipping down the glass in long golden reflections.
Earth smiled faintly over the rim of her cup. “You’re impossible.”
Mars looked away before answering. “And yet you still meet me for tea.”
The response made him mutter something unintelligible into his drink, which only amused her more.
For a moment, Mars simply watched her.
The calm way she held the cup between her hands.
The slight tilt of her head whenever she listened closely to something.
The quiet softness in her voice.
Earth always seemed far too comfortable around him, as though she had never once considered him capable of frightening her.
Maybe that unsettled him most.
Slowly, Mars removed one of his gloves.
The quiet sound of fabric shifting was enough to make Earth lift her head slightly. “There you are,” she murmured softly.
Something warm twisted uncomfortably in Mars’s chest.
He placed his bare hand carefully on the table between the teacups. Earth hesitated only briefly before reaching toward him, fingertips brushing lightly against his before settling around his hand with careful ease.
The warmth of her touch traveled all the way up his arm.
Mars inhaled quietly.
Earth paused immediately. “Too cold?”
“No,” he answered, his voice sounding rougher than usual. “You just surprised me.”
A soft laugh escaped her, but she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she slowly turned his hand between hers, fingertips wandering carefully across his palm as though reading something written there.
Around them, the restaurant faded into background noise.
The quiet conversations.
The clinking porcelain.
The rain against the windows.
Mars could only focus on Earth’s fingers against his skin — the light brush of her thumb near his wrist, the way her touch lingered carefully over old scars.
“Mmm…”
Mars raised a brow slightly. “What does that mean?”
Earth’s fingers moved slowly across the center of his palm, pausing briefly near his wrist. “I’m examining the evidence.”
“You sound like a detective.”
“Perhaps your heart committed a crime.”
A quiet breath escaped him, suspiciously close to a laugh, and Earth smiled slightly at the sound.
Carefully, she adjusted her grip until two fingers rested lightly against his pulse.
Mars felt his heartbeat stumble immediately beneath her touch.
“Ah…”
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
Earth tilted her head thoughtfully, thumb brushing absentmindedly over one of the scars near his wrist. “Your heart is bigger than I expected.”
Mars leaned back with a disbelieving sigh. “You can’t figure that out just from holding someone’s hand.”
“Of course I can.”
“That’s scientifically impossible.”
Earth smiled faintly, thumb still resting against his wrist. “Emotionally accurate.”
He let his head fall back with a tired sigh. “That sentence means nothing.”
“It means I’m right.”
The confidence in her voice should have annoyed him more than it did.
Instead, Mars found himself watching the way her fingers continued tracing slow patterns against his hand with absentminded familiarity.
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Earth touched him as though there had never been anything frightening about him at all.
“You hide your hands a lot,” she murmured quietly, tracing another scar.
Mars lowered his gaze for a moment. “It’s a habit.”
A soft thoughtful hum escaped her almost immediately.
He sighed. “Don’t make that noise.”
A smile returned to Earth’s face. “What noise?”
“The one that means you’ve already figured something out about me.”
That earned another quiet laugh from her. “Maybe I just listen well.”
And maybe she did.
Earth listened to silence the same way other people listened to words, which made it strangely difficult to hide things from her.
Her thumb brushed slowly over his pulse again. “Your heartbeat changes when you’re nervous,” she murmured gently.
Mars instinctively tried to pull away, but Earth tightened her fingers around his hand before he could pull away completely. “Don’t run away.”
Mars frowned immediately, though the warmth rising to his face betrayed him. “I’m not running away.”
“Mars.”
He closed his eyes briefly, already sounding defeated. “I’m considering a tactical retreat.”
That made Earth laugh properly this time, bright enough that a few nearby customers glanced over before returning to their own conversations.
Mars immediately felt warmth rise to his face.
Unfortunately, Earth noticed too.
Her smile widened slightly as her thumb brushed against his pulse again. “Your hand’s warmer now.”
Mars immediately covered part of his face with his free hand. “This is humiliating.”
Earth’s laughter softened into something warmer. “I think it’s cute.”
“That makes it significantly worse.”
But even then, he still didn’t pull away.
Neither did she.
The silence between them no longer felt awkward after that.
Rain continued tapping softly against the restaurant windows while steam curled slowly upward from the forgotten tea between them. Somewhere nearby, porcelain clinked gently against another cup, but Mars barely noticed any of it anymore.
All his attention remained fixed on the warmth of Earth’s hand around his.
Soft.
Steady.
Natural.
And somewhere along the way, without realizing exactly when, Mars had stopped wanting to let go.