They continued walking slowly, hand in hand, the cool night wrapping around them like a quiet blanket. The streetlights cast long golden pools on the pavement, and each time they stepped through one, Amelia felt a little more aware of Ethan's presence beside her.
Not overwhelming.
Not intense.
Just there.
Steady. Warm.
By the time they reached her street, Amelia's steps grew smaller, as if her body wasn't quite ready for the night to end. Ethan noticed—of course he did—and squeezed her hand gently.
"Amelia?" he murmured.
"Hmm?"
"You're quiet."
She exhaled softly.
"I don't want to say goodnight yet."
Ethan slowed his pace, allowing the moment to linger.
"You don't have to," he whispered.
"We're still here."
She smiled faintly, looking ahead at her apartment building glowing softly under the streetlamp.
When they reached the entrance, Amelia stopped walking altogether.
Ethan turned to face her, gentle concern warming his eyes.
"Talk to me," he said softly.
"I just…"
Her voice trembled a little.
"I liked tonight. More than I expected."
Ethan's lips curved in a warm, relieved smile.
"I liked it too," he said.
"It felt…" She searched for the right word.
"Easy. Safe. Good."
He stepped a little closer—not touching, but enough that she felt his warmth.
"That's how I want it to feel," he murmured.
Amelia looked down at their intertwined hands, her thumb brushing softly over his.
"I keep thinking this can't be real," she whispered.
"That someone like you wants someone like me."
Ethan gently lifted her chin, guiding her gaze back to him.
"Amelia," he said softly, "someone like you is exactly who I want."
Her breath caught at the tenderness in his voice.
"You don't see yourself the way I see you," he continued.
"But I'm patient. I'll wait until you do."
A soft ache filled her chest—warm, not painful.
The kind that comes with being understood.
"Ethan…" she whispered, "you say things that make my heart feel so—"
"Alive?" he offered gently.
She nodded, shy.
"Yes."
He smiled softly.
"Good."
A moment passed—quiet, beautiful, full of unspoken meaning.
Then, very slowly, Amelia released his hand and reached up…
her fingers brushing lightly against his chest, just above his heart.
Ethan inhaled sharply but didn't move.
She looked up at him, voice barely a whisper.
"Is this okay?"
His answer was immediate and low.
"More than okay."
Her hand rested there for a few seconds—feeling the steady rhythm beneath her palm, warm and grounding. Ethan covered her hand with his own, holding it there gently.
"You're letting yourself trust me," he murmured.
"I can feel it."
"I am," she whispered.
"And it scares me… in a good way."
His grip around her hand tightened ever so slightly.
"I'll hold that trust carefully," he said softly.
"I promise."
She swallowed, her heart unfolding slowly.
"Ethan," she whispered, "thank you… for tonight. For everything."
He shook his head.
"No. Thank you," he murmured.
"For letting me be part of your world. For letting me see all the soft parts you usually hide."
Amelia stepped a little closer—just an inch—before whispering:
"Do you think this will change things?"
Ethan met her gaze steadily.
"I hope it does," he said quietly.
"But only in ways you're ready for."
Her breath caught.
"I… I want more of this."
Ethan's eyes softened deeply, his voice lowering.
"Then we'll take more," he whispered.
"Slowly."
Silence wrapped around them again—warm, intimate, fragile.
Amelia finally stepped back a tiny bit, smiling shyly.
"I should go in," she murmured.
Ethan nodded.
"I know."
"But…" she whispered, hesitating,
"…will you stay until I'm inside?"
Ethan's voice softened into something impossibly tender.
"I'll wait until you're safe," he promised.
"Always."
Amelia blushed, her heart fluttering with a warmth she wasn't used to.
"Goodnight, Ethan," she whispered.
Ethan didn't step closer, didn't reach for her—he simply met her eyes with a softness that felt like a touch.
"Goodnight, Amelia," he murmured.
"And… thank you for today."
She took a slow breath, opened her door, and stepped inside—but not before looking back at him one last time.
He was still watching her, gently, patiently, with that steady warmth she had already grown attached to.
And only when the door closed softly behind her did Ethan finally turn and walk away—
his steps slow, his heart full.