The quiet street opened into a small park—one Amelia had walked through many times on her own, but somehow it felt entirely different with Ethan beside her. The morning breeze carried the scent of damp grass, and the soft rustle of leaves filled the silence between them.
It wasn't an awkward silence.
It was warm, calm—like they were sharing something without needing words.
Ethan walked a little slower than usual, matching her pace effortlessly. His hand brushed hers every few steps—light touches, accidental yet not unwelcome. Each time their fingers grazed, Amelia's breath caught softly.
"Is this okay?" Ethan asked suddenly, his voice gentle.
"What?" she blinked.
"Walking this close."
Amelia's heart fluttered.
"Yes," she answered.
"It feels… nice."
Ethan smiled—soft, relieved—and let their arms brush again.
They walked toward a small pond where ducks floated lazily across the water. Amelia stopped at the railing, leaning slightly forward as she took in the view.
"It's so peaceful here," she murmured.
"It is," Ethan agreed, but his gaze wasn't on the pond.
Amelia glanced up at him and caught him looking at her—really looking, like she was something delicate he didn't want to disturb.
She swallowed.
"You're staring," she whispered.
"I know," he said simply.
"I can't help it."
Her cheeks warmed.
"Ethan…"
He stepped a little closer—slowly, giving her time to step back if she wanted.
She didn't.
The space between them dissolved into something soft and quiet.
The breeze brushed Amelia's hair across her cheek, and Ethan—very gently—lifted his hand.
"May I?" he asked.
She nodded, breath trembling.
His fingers brushed her cheek as he tucked the strand softly behind her ear. The touch was light, reverent—enough to send a soft shiver down her spine.
"You're beautiful," he murmured.
Amelia looked down quickly, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
"I don't always feel that way."
"That's okay," Ethan said gently.
"I'll remind you."
She exhaled shakily, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice.
Ethan lowered his hand but stayed close—close enough that she felt the warmth radiating from him. They stood together in silence for a moment, the pond glimmering before them.
Then Amelia spoke softly.
"Last night… I felt something I haven't felt in years."
Ethan's eyes softened.
"What did you feel?"
"Safe," she whispered.
"And wanted. Not pressured… just wanted."
Ethan's jaw relaxed, his expression warm with something almost protective.
"Amelia," he said, stepping an inch closer, "I want you to feel safe every time you're with me."
"I do," she whispered.
"Good," he murmured.
"Because I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you ask me to."
Her heart swelled—full, warm, tender.
"I don't want you to go," she said softly.
Ethan's breath hitched, and for a moment he looked like the ground beneath him had shifted.
He took her hands slowly in his.
"Then I'll stay," he whispered.
"As long as you'll let me."
Her fingers curled around his, tightening slightly.
"Ethan…"
"Yes?"
"Why does it feel like this?" she asked softly.
"So warm… so easy… so fast?"
Ethan chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over her hand.
"Some people take time," he said.
"And some connections… just fit instantly."
"You think we fit?" she whispered.
He stepped closer—slowly, deliberately—until their foreheads almost touched.
"Yes," he breathed.
"I do."
Amelia felt her knees weaken—just a little.
Not in fear.
In emotion.
Ethan leaned closer, his voice low and warm.
"Can I hold you?" he asked.
Her breath caught—soft and trembling—but she nodded.
"Yes."
He moved gently, slipping one arm around her waist and drawing her into his chest. His other hand rested lightly between her shoulder blades.
Amelia melted against him instantly—her cheek resting near his heartbeat, her arms coming up slowly to hold him back.
He smelled like warmth and morning air and something deeply comforting.
Ethan exhaled softly, leaning his cheek against her hair.
"You fit," he whispered again.
"Right here."
Amelia closed her eyes, sinking into the steady, grounding warmth of him.
For the first time in a long time—
she felt held.
She felt wanted.
She felt safe.
And she didn't want the moment to end.