Chapter 1
Agatha did not expect a text from Rio.
Especially not one that just said:
Rio: Come over. I will teach you Tetris.
That was it.
No greeting, no explanation. Just a command.
Agatha stared at her phone. Furrowed her brow. Re-read the message.
Then re-read it again.
Her first instinct was to ignore it.
Her second instinct was to fire back with something sarcastic.
Her third instinct—and the one that worried her the most—was to say yes.
Because, really—what was this?
Why was Rio inviting her over?
They usually met in neutral spaces. Public places. Not each other’s homes.
This was… new.
And Agatha wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
It wasn’t like they were friends. Not really.
At least, Agatha was pretty sure they weren’t.
They didn’t hang out. They didn’t do… whatever this was.
So why now?
Why did Rio suddenly want her at her apartment?
Was this just another weird Rio thing? One of those moments where she did something that made perfect sense in her own head but threw everyone else off?
Agatha rubbed her temple.
She shouldn’t go.
There was no reason for her to go.
She could just say no and move on with her night.
…Except now she was thinking about it.
And Agatha hated when things got stuck in her head.
With a sigh, she finally typed back:
Agatha: Yeah, okay. When?
Rio’s response came ten seconds later.
Rio: Now.
Agatha groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
Of course.
She hesitated for a solid minute, then sighed and grabbed her keys.
She knew where Rio lived.
She wasn’t even sure when she had learned that fact.
At some point in one of their earlier conversations, Rio had just… mentioned it. Plainly, matter-of-factly, like she had been stating the time.
Agatha had probably rolled her eyes at the phrasing, but she hadn’t questioned it.
At the time, she had thought, Yeah, okay, like I’m ever going to need that information.
And now here she was.
Needing that information.
She really was doing this.
And worse—
she wasn’t even sure why.
With a sigh, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door.
Agatha had never been inside Rio’s apartment before.
She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting.
But this?
This was exactly right.
The place was spotless. Not just clean, but organized to an almost unsettling degree.
Everything had a place. And everything was in its place.
No clutter. No unnecessary decorations.
It looked less like someone lived here and more like an AI-generated simulation of a living space.
Agatha hovered near the entrance, glancing around.
A small bookcase, lined with books that were arranged in a way that she could tell was purposeful—but she couldn’t figure out the system. Was it alphabetical? By subject? Chronological?
She kind of wanted to ask.
Then there was the workspace. A desk with a precisely arranged setup—computer, neatly stacked notebooks, a single pen placed so perfectly perpendicular to the edge of the table that Agatha almost didn’t want to disturb it.
And then—
The plants.
Plural.
More than one.
Agatha’s gaze drifted, her brow furrowing slightly.
There was a row of small potted plants near the window, arranged in a way that looked almost like an experiment.
Different species. Different sizes. Some in identical pots, some in slightly varied ones.
Not just for decoration.
For observation.
Agatha stepped closer, scanning the small handwritten labels in Rio’s sharp, exact handwriting.
- Sunlight Variability Test
- Hydration Response (Low vs. High Watering Frequency)
- Temperature Adaptation: Window Proximity vs. Room Center
Agatha blinked.
Okay. What.
“Wow,” Agatha muttered. “Are you growing plants, or running a full-blown research study?”
Rio barely glanced up. “Both.”
Of course.
And, then of course—
The TV setup.
Console. Controllers lined up with precision. Not tossed on the couch, not tangled in cords—just perfectly placed, waiting.
Like they were part of the furniture.
Like Rio was ready to play at any given moment.
Because of course she was.
Agatha shook her head, letting out a low whistle.
“Have you ever heard of clutter?”
Rio glanced up from where she was adjusting the game settings. “Yes, why?”
Of course.
Agatha smirked. “What, no ‘home sweet home’ sign?”
Rio blinked. “Why would I need that?”
Agatha exhaled sharply. “Never mind.”
She wandered over to the bookshelf, tilting her head as she skimmed the titles.
“…How do you organize these?” she asked.
Rio barely glanced over. “By usefulness.”
Agatha paused. “What, like—most useful at the top?”
“Yes.”
Agatha snorted. “And the ones at the bottom?”
“Less relevant,” Rio said simply.
Agatha frowned. “So you rank your books?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t know why she was surprised.
Everything about this place screamed Rio.
Not cozy. Not messy. Not particularly lived-in.
Just functional. Efficient. Optimized.
This wasn’t just where Rio lived.
It was how her brain worked.
Rio adjusted the game settings with sharp, precise movements.
Not casual.
Not relaxed.
Deliberate.
Agatha was still absorbing the sheer, absurd level of organization in this apartment, and Rio was already preparing for war.
Then—without even looking up—
“Sit.”
Agatha raised an eyebrow. “No ‘make yourself comfortable’?”
Rio didn’t even hesitate.
“You won’t be comfortable,” she said evenly. “I am going to make you good at Tetris.”
Agatha narrowed her eyes. “Okay, first of all—rude.”
Rio didn’t react.
Didn’t even acknowledge that what she had just said might be offensive.
Not a twitch, not a smirk, not even a flicker of awareness.
She just sat there, completely neutral, like she had stated the time of day.
And that was when it hit Agatha.
Rio genuinely, genuinely did not think that was rude.
Because in her hyper-logical brain, it wasn’t.
It was just a statement of fact.
This was going to be an experience.
Agatha had made a mistake.
A terrible mistake.
And she realized it the second Rio started speaking.
Because Rio didn’t ease her into it.
There was no warm-up, no gentle guidance, no “let’s start with the basics.”
There was just pure, unfiltered intensity.
“You hesitate too much,” Rio said, watching the screen like a hawk. “Your reaction time is too slow. You need to anticipate your next move before the piece even spawns.”
Agatha barely had time to register what was happening before Rio kept going.
“You’re overthinking.”
“No, I’m not—”
“You are.”
Agatha gritted her teeth. Focused harder.
She could do this.
It was just Tetris.
She could handle a little coaching.
She moved quickly, precisely, trying to think ahead, trying to place the next piece before it hit the board—
And immediately misplaced a block.
Rio sighed.
Agatha bristled. “What?”
“You are not understanding the fundamentals,” Rio said.
Agatha tightened her grip on the controller. “I understand fine!”
“No, you don’t.”
Agatha growled under her breath. “Okay, champ, then show me how I’m supposed to—”
And then Rio moved.
Shifted closer.
And before Agatha could react, Rio’s hands were on hers.
Guiding her fingers.
Correcting her grip.
Pressing lightly against her skin as she adjusted Agatha’s hands into the optimal position.
Agatha completely forgot how to function.
Her brain just shut off.
Because Rio was right there.
Not just standing close.
Not just leaning in.
But touching her.
And doing it so casually, so naturally, like it was nothing.
Like she wasn’t completely invading Agatha’s space and destroying her ability to think.
Agatha swallowed. Tried to focus. Failed miserably.
And then Rio started explaining.
While still touching her hands.
And Agatha was going to die.
Rio’s voice was calm, even.
Like this was just another tutorial.
Like Agatha wasn’t currently on the verge of spontaneous combustion.
“You are gripping too tightly,” Rio said, fingers adjusting Agatha’s hands with ridiculous ease. “You need to relax.”
Relax?
Relax?!
Agatha was about to have a full-blown existential crisis.
Her entire body had gone unnaturally still.
Because Rio was still touching her.
And not in a quick, instructional way.
Not in a barely-there, momentary brush.
No.
This was direct, deliberate contact.
Her hands were still resting over Agatha’s.
Her fingers were lightly pressing against her skin, firm but not forceful.
And Agatha could feel the warmth of her palms.
Which should not have been the thing that ruined her.
But it was.
“I—” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “I am relaxed.”
Rio hummed slightly. “No, you’re not.”
And then—without warning—
She repositioned Agatha’s fingers.
Just a small movement. Just a slight shift.
But it was enough.
Enough for Agatha to realize she had made a mistake.
A terrible mistake.
Because she should have never come here.
She should have never agreed to this.
She should have known this would happen.
Because Rio is Rio.
And Rio doesn’t think about things like this.
But Agatha does.
Agatha is very much thinking about this.
She is thinking about how warm Rio’s hands are.
She is thinking about how close Rio is.
She is thinking about how Rio has absolutely no idea that this is a problem.
And she is thinking, in real time, about how to survive the next ten seconds without spontaneously combusting.
Agatha needed to leave.
Now.
Immediately.
Preferably before she lost whatever was left of her ability to function.
Her entire brain was short-circuiting, flashing through every possible reaction that would let her escape without making things even weirder.
Because Rio was still sitting there, completely unbothered.
Still watching her with that calm, unreadable expression.
Still waiting for her to continue the lesson.
Still completely unaware that Agatha’s soul had just left her body.
Agatha jerked her hands back, nearly dropping the controller in the process. “Okay! Great! Lesson over!”
Rio blinked at her. “You didn’t learn anything.”
Agatha forced a smile—the kind that was not natural, not even a little bit. “Sure I did.”
Rio frowned slightly. “Then why are you still bad at Tetris?”
Agatha stood up so fast her chair nearly tipped over. “Welp, this was fun, gotta go.”
Rio tilted her head. “We haven’t finished.”
Agatha was already backing toward the door. “Oh, we finished.”
Rio just stared at her.
Like she was trying to process what had gone wrong.
Like she was mentally replaying the last few seconds to analyze the unexpected outcome.
Which made it so much worse.
Because Rio wasn’t flustered at all.
And Agatha?
Agatha was about to have a full-blown crisis.
She reached for the doorknob — nearly missed it — wrenched the door open, and stepped out into the hall like she was escaping a crime scene.
“Okay, thanks for the lesson, see you—sometime. Probably. Who knows.”
She was seconds away from freedom.
Seconds away from getting out of there before her brain completely imploded.
And then—
“You left your coat,” Rio said.
Agatha froze.
Cursed under her breath.
Because she could not — physically could not— go back inside that apartment.
Not after that.
Not after her entire brain had collapsed in on itself.
She turned halfway, gave Rio a vague, extremely unnatural nod.
“…I’ll get it later.”
And then she power-walked down the hall, not looking back.
Agatha made it halfway down the street before she let out a long, strangled groan.
Then she dragged both hands down her face.
Then she tilted her head back toward the sky like she was asking the universe what the hell just happened.
Then she muttered, “I hate my life.”
What the hell was that?
She had gone over there for one reason.
One single, innocent reason.
And yet, somehow, she had walked directly into disaster.
She hadn’t just lost a Tetris match.
She had lost all control of her own brain.
And the worst part?
Rio didn’t even know.
Rio hadn’t noticed a thing.
She had just sat there, fully unbothered, while Agatha went through a life-changing event.
And that was so much worse.
Agatha walked faster, trying to burn the whole situation out of her system.
But her brain?
Yeah, not cooperating.
Because her thoughts kept looping back to Rio.
To the way she spoke, the way she moved, the way she just casually invaded Agatha’s space like it was nothing.
To the way her fingers felt against Agatha’s skin.
To the unshakable, ridiculous, absolutely insane feeling that Agatha wanted it to happen again.
She stumbled slightly on the sidewalk.
Cursed.
Shoved her hands into her pockets.
No.
No, no, no.
She was not doing this.
She was not having a crisis about some weird, accidental moment.
Except—
Except it wasn’t just a moment, was it?
It was everything.
The way Rio talked. The way she never hesitated, never wavered, always said exactly what she meant.
The way she wasn’t awkward about anything—until she was.
The way she had turned away when Agatha asked about the books.
The way she didn't hesitate answering any questions.
Agatha exhaled sharply.
Because this wasn’t just about tonight.
This wasn’t just about the Tetris lesson.
It was about all of it.
The coffee shop. The arcade. The ridiculous, chaotic way Rio’s mind worked.
And Agatha liked it.
She liked it.
She liked the way Rio thought.
She liked the way Rio didn’t overcomplicate things.
She liked the way Rio looked at her—neutral, unassuming, like she was still figuring Agatha out, piece by piece.
She liked—
Oh.
Oh no.
Agatha stopped walking.
Right there.
In the middle of the damn sidewalk.
Her hands tightened into fists inside her pockets.
Her jaw tensed.
Her heart was doing something extremely stupid.
Because she recognized this feeling.
She knew exactly what this was.
And she did not like where this was going.
“Oh, fuck,” she muttered.
A guy passing by glanced at her weirdly.
She ignored him.
Because she had bigger problems.
Like the fact that she had, in fact, developed a crush on Rio Vidal.
And there was not a single thing she could do about it.