The night settled around Amelia's apartment like a gentle blanket.
After Ethan left, she leaned her forehead against the closed door, her breath trembling in her chest. She hadn't expected the day to unfold the way it did—not the softness, not the warmth, not the way her heart seemed to open without breaking.
She touched her cheek where his hand had rested hours earlier.
It still felt warm.
She whispered into the quiet hallway,
"Why does this feel so real?"
But she already knew the answer.
Ethan didn't try to take pieces of her.
He didn't demand anything.
He didn't fill silence with noise or doubt.
He simply stayed—
steady, gentle, patient.
The kind of presence her heart had never known it needed.
---
The Next Morning
Amelia woke up earlier than usual.
She found herself humming softly while tying her hair into a messy bun, glancing at the clock more than once.
She wasn't waiting.
She was… looking forward.
And that made her smile.
When she reached the flower shop, the morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of wet earth from last night's rain. She unlocked the door, the familiar comfort of petals and greenery greeting her.
Halfway through preparing the morning arrangements, a soft knock sounded on the window.
She turned and saw Ethan outside, holding two cups of tea and wearing that gentle, slightly shy smile.
Amelia's heart lifted.
She unlocked the door quickly.
"You're early," she said, trying to sound casual—and failing.
Ethan held out her tea.
"I didn't want you to start your day alone."
Her breath caught in her throat, her fingers brushing his as she took the cup.
"I'm glad you came," she said softly.
Ethan's eyes warmed.
"Me too."
---
They settled into an easy rhythm around the shop—she trimming stems, he organizing empty vases without needing to be asked. Amelia found herself watching him when she thought he wasn't looking.
But he noticed everything.
After a moment of silence, Ethan spoke quietly.
"You're quieter today," he said, not in concern but in gentle observation.
Amelia looked up from the bouquet she was arranging.
"Not in a bad way?"
He shook his head with a soft smile.
"No. In a thoughtful way."
She hesitated, then walked over to the counter where he stood.
Her fingers fidgeted with the ribbon she'd been tying.
"Last night…" she began, cheeks warming, "when you walked me home… I kept thinking about something."
Ethan straightened slightly, attentive.
"What did you think about?"
Amelia swallowed.
"How easy it felt. Being beside you."
Something flickered in Ethan's eyes—relief, warmth, something deeper.
"I felt that too," he said softly.
She looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Why does it feel like I've known you longer than I have?"
Ethan stepped a little closer—slow enough for her to stop him if she wanted.
"Maybe because you met me at the exact moment your heart was ready for someone new," he said.
The words hit her gently, like warm rain.
Amelia's breath trembled.
"I'm still learning how to let someone in."
Ethan nodded.
"And I'm still learning how to show you I'm not leaving."
Her eyes softened.
"Ethan…"
He raised a hand slowly—
giving her room, asking silently.
She surprised herself.
She closed the distance instead.
Her forehead brushed his chest, the lightest touch—but a deliberate one.
Ethan froze, breath deepening, hands hovering carefully at his sides.
"Is this okay?" he whispered.
Amelia nodded against him.
"I wanted to."
His hands rose slowly, gently—
and he rested them on her upper back, not pulling her close, only holding her in a soft, supportive way.
Amelia exhaled shakily, her body relaxing into the warmth of him.
It wasn't a hug.
Not fully.
It was something quieter.
Something deeper.
A moment where her heart lowered its guard
and touched his without fear.
They stayed like that, wrapped in soft morning light, surrounded by flowers and quiet breaths—
a closeness so tender it didn't need a name.
When Amelia finally pulled back, she didn't step far.
Her voice trembled softly.
"Ethan… thank you."
"For what?" he asked gently.
"For making it easy to trust you."
Ethan's answer was quiet, steady.
"I'll keep earning that," he said.
"Every day."