Until You Could Stay

CHAPTER 1 — DON’T YOU DARE TEXT ME

When Cassia thought back to the day she met Charles, his face wasn’t the first thing that came to mind.

It was the red lipstick.

Her friend’s broken phone.

The class she was about to be late for.

And that sentence she’d uttered just before walking out the door, spoken to a man she barely knew:

“Don’t you dare text me.”

At the time, she had thought it was just a silly coincidence.

She had accompanied a friend, chatted with a stranger for a few minutes, and moved on with her life.

That was all.

At least, that was how it was supposed to be.

“Is it too much?” Mia looked up from the bed, fiddling with her broken phone. “What?” “The lipstick.” “Cassia, you wear it four days a week.” “Five.” “Why ask if you already know the answer?” Cassia leaned a little closer to the mirror. “It looked too red today.” “It is red lipstick.” “That’s very helpful.” Mia went back to fiddling with her phone. Cassia studied her reflection. She was twenty-three. She was a senior biology major, entering the final months of a university life spent hundreds of kilometers away from her family. In a few months, she would receive her diploma. What came next was uncertain. She could pursue a master’s degree. She could work in a lab. She could continue doing research. Maybe she’d return to the city where her family lived. People were always asking. “What will you do after you graduate?” Cassia always had a new answer ready. The real answer, however, was much simpler. She didn’t know. For now, she chose not to think about it. She looked at her hair in the mirror. Her curly, shoulder-length hair was red. It wasn’t her natural color; she had dyed it a few months earlier. At first, she questioned whether it suited her, but eventually she grew tired of wondering. Now, she liked it. Most of the time. Her red hair and red lipstick stood out strikingly against her dark complexion. It was somewhat ironic. Because Cassia didn’t particularly like drawing attention to herself. She was about 1.65 meters tall. She saw the marks left by old acne on her face every time she looked in the mirror, even if she didn’t know whether others noticed them. She weighed around 110 kilograms. The world didn’t exactly let her forget that, anyway. Clothing sizes in stores. Photographs. Cramped chairs. Certain looks. Cassia never said out loud that she found herself ugly. In fact, to an outsider, she might have seemed quite confident. She talked a lot. She laughed a lot. She connected easily with people. If someone made a joke at her expense, she would often beat everyone else to it and make the joke herself. That way, she kept control of the situation. When a man looked at her for more than a few seconds, the first thought that crossed her mind was never, He likes me.

It was more like:

Is my lipstick smudged?

Is there something in my hair?

Or, worst of all:

Is he making fun of me?

Yet, she wouldn’t give up her red lipstick.

Cassia didn’t know why. It was one of the few things about herself she considered brave.

“Can I have your phone?”

Cassia looked at Mia in the mirror.

“No.”

“I haven’t even told you why I want it yet.”

“Whenever you ask for something of mine, something bad usually happens to me.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You took my charger last month.”

“Yeah.”

“It never came back.”

“It got lost.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

The phone in Mia’s hand lit up for a moment. Green lines covered half the screen, and then it went dark again.

Cassia pointed at the phone.

“It’s dead.”

“It has a charge.”

“I study biology. I know a dead thing when I see one.”

“The phone wasn’t alive to begin with.”

“That’s exactly why you should find it easier to accept its loss.”

Mia threw a pillow.

It hit Cassia on the shoulder.

“Violence isn’t the answer.”

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“You know that job posting I mentioned yesterday?”

Cassia remembered.

Mia had been looking for a part-time job for a few days. She’d found a listing yesterday but hadn’t managed to make proper contact.

“What about it?”

“I’m going to send a message.”

“From my phone?”

“Mine is dead, remember?”

“You finally admitted it.”

“Cassia.”

“Fine.”

She held out her phone but pulled it back before Mia could take it.

“Type your name.”

“I will.”

“Make sure you do. I don’t want it to look like I’m the one applying.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t be too chummy.”

“I’m applying for a job.”

“Don’t use a smiley face.”

“I’m not putting that in.”

“And definitely no hearts or anything—”

“I’m not flirting!”

Cassia handed over the phone.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Mia typed the message.

Cassia looked over her shoulder.

“You wrote ‘Hello’.”

“That’s usually how people start.”

“Too friendly.”

Mia looked at her.

Cassia managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds.

Then she laughed.

“Okay, okay.”

The message was sent.

The reply came faster than they expected.

The phone buzzed a few minutes later.

Mia looked at the screen.

“He said we can meet today.”

“Nice.”

“In an hour.”

“Even better.”

Mia fell silent.

Cassia looked at her face.

She recognized that expression.

“No.”

“I haven’t said anything yet.”

“You’re going to ask me to come with you.”

“Will you come with me?”

“No.”

“Cassia.”

“I have a class.”

“In the afternoon.”

“I’m going to the lab early.”

Mia laughed.

Cassia frowned.

“Why did you laugh?”

“You never go anywhere early.”

“That’s slander.”

“You were twelve minutes late for class last week.”

“Because of the bus.”

“The week before that?”

“Rain.”

“Before that?”

Cassia thought about it.

“Life.”

Mia laughed again.

Then her expression shifted slightly.

“I don’t want to go alone.”

Cassia fell silent.

This was what she hated.

Because it worked.

“Ten minutes.”

Mia smiled.

“Okay.”

“I’ll just sit there.”

“Okay.”

“I won’t talk.”

“Okay.”

“I won’t interfere with anything.”

Mia burst out laughing this time.

Cassia picked up her bag.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Neither of them believed what Cassia had just said.

Charles wasn’t supposed to be there that day.

It was the final stretch of his leave, and he was due back at his post in a few days. The time he could spend at home was already limited.

However, an old acquaintance had asked for help for a few hours, and Charles had agreed.

It was a simple job.

He would meet a few people, wrap up some business, and head home.

That was all.

When the door opened, Mia entered first.

Charles recognized her immediately.

The name from the message.

Another woman followed her in.

Charles’s gaze involuntarily lingered on her.

A second.

Maybe two.

The woman had curly red hair that fell to her shoulders. Against her dark complexion, her red lipstick stood out almost as strikingly as her hair.

She was looking around.

But not out of curiosity.

It was as if she had a habit of sizing up any new environment she entered.

Charles’s gaze shifted to her face.

Hazel eyes.

Or green.

It was hard to tell as the light shifted.

“Charles?”

He turned his gaze to the other woman.

“Yes.”

“I’m Mia. We’ve been messaging.”

Charles stood up.

“Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands.

Mia gestured to the woman beside her.

“And this is my friend, Cassia.”

Charles turned to her.

Cassia looked back at him.

The first thing Cassia noticed was his height.

About six feet.

The second was his hair. He wasn’t blond. His hair was light brown; in the light, some sections looked even lighter.

He had brown eyes.

Even beneath his simple clothes, it was clear he was fit.

He was handsome.

Cassia had no problem admitting that.

He was handsome.

So what?

Plenty of handsome people in the world.

She didn’t have to feel something for every handsome man she saw.

Before Charles could say a word, Cassia spoke.

“I’m not looking for a job.”

Silence fell.

One of Charles’s eyebrows arched.

“Okay.”

Mia slowly turned to Cassia.

“Did you have to say that?”

“Don’t get me wrong.”

The corner of Charles’s mouth curled up.

“I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“Not yet.”

Cassia looked at him.

Charles smiled.

Cassia laughed despite herself.

Talkative.

She had realized that immediately.

“That’s the phone we used to send the messages, too,” Mia said.

Charles looked at Cassia again.

“Is that so?”

Cassia immediately pointed at Mia.

“She wrote the messages.”

“The phone is yours.”

“Yes.”

“But the messages are hers.”

“Exactly.”

Charles fell silent for a few seconds.

“Why is that distinction so important?”

Cassia thought about it.

“I don’t know.”

Charles’s smile widened.

“But it feels important,” Cassia added.

Charles laughed.

That old reflex suddenly surfaced in Cassia’s mind.

Is he laughing at me?

Her shoulders tensed involuntarily.

Then she brushed the thought aside as Charles, still smiling, gestured toward the chairs.

“Please, have a seat.”

Once they were seated, Cassia remembered the promise she had made to herself.

She was going to stay quiet.

She managed it for about a minute and forty seconds.

“Are the working hours set in stone?”

Mia turned slowly toward her.

“Cassia.”

“What? You didn’t ask.”

Charles answered.

“Mostly.”

Cassia raised her eyebrows.

“Mostly?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not a good word.”

“Why?”

“Because ‘mostly’ is a polite way of saying ‘no, but I don’t want to scare you off just yet.’”

Charles leaned back in his chair.

“Is that how you interpret everything?”

“No.”

Mia immediately chimed in.

“Yes.”

Cassia turned to her.

“Whose side are you on?”

“The party trying to find a job.”

Charles laughed.

Cassia looked at him.

“You laugh a lot.”

“You talk a lot.”

“Is that a criticism?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Cassia narrowed her eyes.

“I’ve decided.”

“On what?”

“You talk a lot, too.”

Charles shrugged.

“True.”

Cassia laughed despite herself.

Perhaps she found him less annoying than she had expected.

Just a little.

The meeting continued.

After a while, the conversation turned to Cassia.

“Are you studying biology?” Charles asked.

“Yes.”

“What year?”

“Final year.”

“What will you do next?”

Cassia sighed inwardly.

There was that question again.

“I don’t know.”

The expression she expected didn’t appear on Charles’s face.

No surprise.

No judgment.

He waited.

Cassia went on.

“Maybe a master’s degree. Maybe a lab job. My family lives in another city; I only came here for university.”

“Will you go back after you graduate?”

“Probably.”

Charles nodded.

“I see.”

That was it.

He didn’t offer advice.

He didn’t say, “You need to make a plan.”

Cassia liked that.

But a few minutes later, she forgot about it.

Because, as far as she was concerned, Charles was still just the guy from her friend’s job interview.

Someone she would likely never see again.

When the meeting ended, Cassia checked her watch.

“Great. I’m late.”

Mia picked up her bag.

“You were already late.”

“Because of you.”

“You agreed to come.”

“You used emotional blackmail.”

Charles walked them to the door.

“I’ll let you know the outcome.”

Cassia turned back immediately.

“To Mia.”

Charles looked at her.

“Her phone is broken.”

“She’ll get it fixed.”

“What if she can’t?”

“Email.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Cassia shrugged.

“Use smoke signals.”

Charles started to laugh.

Cassia was about to step out the door.

Then she stopped.

Something had crossed her mind.

She slowly turned back.

Charles was still there.

“Wait a minute.”

“Yes?”

“You have my number.”

Charles tried to process this for a few seconds.

“Yes?”

“The number we used to text.”

“It was your phone.”

“Yes.”

“So, the number is yours, too.”

Cassia nodded.

“You’re a quick learner.”

Charles laughed.

“Thank you.”

Cassia turned serious this time.

“Look.”

“I’m looking.”

“Don’t you dare text me.”

Charles’s expression froze.

“What?”

“Don’t text me.”

“Why would I?”

Cassia paused.

She hadn’t anticipated that.

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.”

“Good. Then we have an agreement.”

Charles’s lips curled into a smile again.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“You are.”

“A little.”

Cassia raised her index finger.

“Don’t text ‘hi’ at midnight. Don’t ask for photos. Don’t ask, ‘Want to get to know each other?’ Don’t send weird stuff. Don’t give my number to anyone else.”

Charles couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore.

A few steps away, Mia cupped her face in her hands.

“Cassia…”

But Cassia wasn’t finished.

“Just… don’t be a creep.”

Charles stopped laughing.

“You just met me.”

“That’s exactly why I’m taking precautions.”

“I didn’t ask for your number.”

“Keep it up.”

Charles bowed his head.

The slight movement of his shoulders showed he was laughing again.

Cassia rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious.”

“It shows.”

“Good.”

She turned to leave.

Mia grabbed her arm and dragged her into the hallway.

“You aren’t normal.”

“What did I do?”

“You called the guy a creep.”

“No. I said, ‘Don’t be a creep.’”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is an accusation. The other is a preventive measure.”

Mia looked at Cassia for a few seconds.

Then she burst out laughing.

Cassia laughed too.

“You’ll thank me if you get the job.”

“If I don’t, you’ll be the reason why.”

“I think he liked me.”

“Cassia!”

“What?”

Their voices faded away at the end of the corridor.

Charles stood in front of the door for a few seconds.

Then he returned to his desk.

When he picked up his phone, Cassia’s message was still on the screen.

He looked at the number.

He didn’t save it.

He didn’t write a reply.

He just stared at the screen for a few seconds, then smiled to himself.

“Don’t be a creep.”

He nodded.

He was about to put his phone in his pocket when the device vibrated again.

He glanced at the screen.

His smile vanished.

Your leave is cancelled. You’re returning to the unit tonight. Be ready.

Charles read the message a second time.

Then a third.

The relaxed air he’d worn moments ago seemed to have never existed.

He dialed the number on his phone.

The person on the other end answered on the second ring.

“Charles.”

He listened.

“Understood.”

He walked toward the window.

Below, he saw Cassia and Mia.

Cassia was telling a story again. She gestured with her hands, and Mia laughed.

Charles watched them for a few seconds.

The voice on the line kept talking.

Charles’s attention shifted back to the conversation.

“When?”

He heard the answer.

His brows furrowed.

“Tonight?”

He remained silent for a few seconds.

“How many of us are going?”

The answer he received this time wiped away the last trace of a smile from his face.

He stepped away from the window.

“Understood.”

He grabbed his keys.

“I’ll be ready.”

He hung up.

An hour ago, he had thought he would spend the evening having dinner with his mother.

Now, he would be setting out in a few hours.

He knew where he was going.

He didn’t know how long he would stay.

Just because it wasn’t new didn’t mean it was easy.

His phone screen lit up again.

Cassia’s number was still there.

Charles stared at it for a few seconds.

Then he turned off the screen.

He wouldn’t send a message.

She had made that quite clear, after all.

Cassia, however, wasn’t thinking about Charles.

At least, according to her.

As she walked toward the university with Mia, she took her small mirror out of her bag.

“Is my lipstick smudged?”

Mia looked at her.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes.”

“You spent five minutes explaining to a guy that he shouldn’t be a creep, and the thing on your mind is your lipstick?”

“It wasn’t ten minutes.”

“Cassia.”

“What?”

Mia shook her head.

“Never mind.”

Cassia looked in the mirror.

She fixed the edge of her lipstick with her finger.

Then she checked her phone.

No new messages.

Good.

There wasn’t supposed to be one anyway.

She put her phone back in her bag.

“See?” she said.

“See what?”

“He didn’t text.”

Mia looked at her and smiled.

“It’s only been three minutes since we left the building.”

“So, he listens.”

Cassia kept walking.

A few minutes later, the conversation shifted.

They talked about classes.

About Mia’s meeting.

About what they would have for dinner.

Cassia didn’t mention Charles’s name again for the rest of the day.

By evening, she didn’t know that he had already left the city.

She didn’t know where he had gone.

Or why they had summoned him in such a rush.

She didn’t yet know Charles’s life wasn’t limited to the talkative man she had seen in that room.

That night, while Cassia slept, Charles sat silently in a dark vehicle hundreds of kilometers away.

The man beside him leaned his head back against the seat.

“How was your leave?”

Charles stared out into the darkness.

His mother came to mind.

His father.

Home.

Then, for no logical reason—red hair and red lipstick.

He exhaled sharply through his nose.

“It was strange.”

The man beside him laughed.

“A good kind of strange?”

Charles was about to answer.

The vehicle suddenly slowed down.

One of the soldiers in front straightened up.

The conversation ceased.

Charles’s expression changed.

The man from a moment ago was gone.

His hand instinctively went to his gear.

A sharp sound rang out from outside.

Then another.

The driver swore.

“Keep your heads down!”

Charles shifted forward.

Everyone in the vehicle fell silent.

Another sound echoed through the night.

This time, it was closer.

Charles was no longer thinking about Cassia.

Or the red lipstick.

Or her laughter from that morning.

Because in some lives, a single day could hold two completely different worlds.

And in Charles’s second world, no one knew what the next minute would bring.

END OF CHAPTER