They sat like that for a while, hands linked, the air between them lighter. Kyle glanced at the clock—still early evening—and squeezed her hand.
"How about we order some takeout? Talk more? Or not talk, if you want. Whatever feels right." Kyle suggested. Ella nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Yeah. Takeout sounds good. And... thanks, Kyle. For not letting me blow everything up." Ella was quick to show her gratitude.
"Anytime," he murmured, pressing a careful kiss to her forehead this time—no recoils needed. As the night unfolded, the fractures in their confessions began to mend, one honest word at a time.
Ding!]
[Update in affection bar!]
[Ella's affection: 47%!]
