Selene's POV
The scent of fresh paint, sawdust, and endless ideas filled the air as we all stood in the echoing emptiness of Ayra and Eliot's new house. It wasn't a home yet—not quite—but the bones of it were beautiful. Sunlight streamed in from wide arched windows, catching on the soft tones of white oak flooring and casting golden lines on the bare walls.
Ayra beamed as she spun in the center of the living room. "This space," she said, arms open wide, "it's ours. And I want it to be a reflection of us."
Eliot, leaning against a support beam, nodded. "So... bring on the vision board, Team SelTon."
"SelTon?" Antonio raised an eyebrow with a laugh.
"Yeah," Eliot smirked. "Selene and Antonio—our in-house designer and structural genius."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. But you're stuck with our dramatic flair and creative debates."
Ayra grinned. "We welcome the chaos."
Week One: The Dreaming Stage
Antonio and Eliot pored over the architectural layout, sketching adjustments with pencils tucked behind their ears like seasoned builders. Ayra and I sipped iced coffee at the kitchen island (an imaginary one for now), flipping through magazines and Pinterest boards.
"I want this corner to be my creative cave," Ayra said, pointing. "A soft bench beneath that window, with fabric shelves and a corkboard."
"And next to that," I added, "a floating rack for the newest pieces in progress. With track lighting to highlight them like art."
Meanwhile, Antonio suggested shifting the kitchen layout for more movement, and Eliot proposed turning the spare room into a music nook for late-night melodies.
Ayra stared at him, touched. "You remembered."
Eliot smiled. "Always."
Week Two: The Building Begins
Paint swatches covered half the living room wall. Soft olive greens, calming beige, burnt terracotta, and deep navy—all curated to mirror their moods.
"I want the bedroom to feel like a safe hug," Ayra said, holding a swatch of warm earth tones.
Eliot added, "And the living room should feel alive. A mix of music, stories, and coffee spills."
Antonio and I spent hours marking floor points with blue tape, arguing over rug sizes and couch placement. Eliot teased, "You two could host a home design show—Lovers Who Renovate."
We added Ayra's grandmother's antique mirror to the hallway and a shelf of Eliot's childhood books in the study. Every piece placed had a story.
Week Three: The Finishing Touches
The house had transformed. From whispers of dreams to visible love.
In the reading nook, Ayra hung their first Polaroid selfie in a golden frame. On the open kitchen shelf sat mismatched mugs with handwritten quotes. The scent of vanilla candles drifted through the air.
"We need a name for the house," I said, brushing my fingers over the sleek kitchen counter.
"Call it Echo," Eliot said. "Because it carries the sound of us—our first laughs, fights, dreams... everything."
Antonio whispered to me, "We should help them throw a housewarming next weekend."
"I already ordered string lights and a banner," I replied, grinning.
That night, as we stood outside under the glowing porch light, Ayra turned to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "We couldn't have done this without you."
I hugged her back tightly. "You did it. We just helped bring it to life."
Inside, Eliot pulled Antonio in for a quick bro-hug and said, "This is more than a house, man. This is... the beginning of forever."
Antonio chuckled. "Then forever looks pretty damn good."
And as we looked at the lights flickering inside, the laughter echoing softly through the open window, and the warmth radiating from every carefully placed item—it was clear:
They had built not just a house... but a heartbeat.