Amelia leaned against Ethan, her head gently resting near his shoulder as the willow branches shifted lightly above them. The garden was quiet—soft, peaceful, full of unspoken warmth.
Ethan didn't move much.
He seemed almost afraid to disturb her, like the moment was something delicate he wanted to protect.
His fingers rested lightly on her upper arm, not gripping—just a quiet, steady presence.
Amelia inhaled slowly, letting the comfort of his closeness settle into her ribs. Even the simple rhythm of his breathing calmed her. She hadn't known someone's presence could feel so grounding.
After a long moment, she spoke softly.
"Ethan?"
"Yes?" His voice was gentle, warm.
"Does it scare you? How fast this is happening?"
He took a slow breath before answering.
"It doesn't scare me," he said.
"It surprises me. In a good way."
"In a good way?" she whispered.
"Yes," he murmured.
"I've been in things before where I felt nothing. Or very little. But with you… everything feels clear. Easy. Natural."
Amelia's heart fluttered.
"I'm not used to things feeling easy," she admitted.
Ethan brushed his thumb lightly across her arm.
"You deserve easy," he said softly.
"You deserve gentle."
A warmth bloomed slowly in her chest.
No one had ever said something like that to her before—not with such quiet certainty.
She lifted her head slightly to look at him.
"Do you really think that?"
"I don't think it," Ethan said.
"I know it."
His gaze held hers steadily—warm, patient, sincere.
It made her breath tremble.
"You make it sound so simple," she whispered.
"It is simple," he said softly.
"Feelings don't always need to be complicated. Sometimes they're just… true."
Amelia swallowed, her throat tight in the sweetest way.
"What if I don't know how to do this?" she whispered.
Ethan leaned slightly closer—slowly, gently, as if approaching something sacred.
"Then we'll learn together," he murmured.
"One step at a time."
The breeze picked up, brushing Amelia's hair across her cheek. Ethan reached up without thinking—then paused, asking softly:
"May I?"
Amelia nodded.
He tucked the hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. Her skin warmed beneath his touch.
"You're so gentle," she breathed.
"That's because you matter to me," Ethan replied quietly.
Amelia's heartbeat quickened.
"You say things…" she whispered, "…that make me feel things I didn't expect."
"Like what?" he asked softly.
"Like wanting to be close," she said, her voice trembling.
"Like trusting you more than I should. Like… wanting this to be real."
Ethan's expression softened, deepened—his eyes full of something tender.
"It is real," he whispered.
"At least for me."
Amelia's lips parted slightly, her breath catching.
"Ethan…"
"Yes?"
"Will you tell me something?"
"Anything."
"What do you see," she whispered, "when you look at me like that?"
Ethan didn't answer right away.
He took his time—really looking at her, really letting the moment settle between them.
Then, his voice low and honest, he said:
"I see someone strong," he murmured.
"Someone soft in ways she doesn't show the world. Someone who's learning how to let herself be wanted. Someone I want to know… deeper. Closer. Gently."
Amelia felt warmth rush through her chest—too full, too tender, but beautiful.
She looked down, overwhelmed, but Ethan lifted her chin lightly with two fingers.
"Hey," he whispered.
"You don't have to hide from me."
"I'm not used to being seen," she said softly.
"Then let me be gentle with the parts you're learning to show," he murmured.
A quiet breeze brushed against them again.
A bird chirped somewhere in the bushes.
The world felt still and small and softly wrapped around them.
Amelia took a slow breath.
"Ethan…"
"Yes?"
"…will you stay with me a little longer?"
His smile was quiet but full of emotion.
"I'll stay," he whispered.
"As long as you want me."
Amelia lowered her head, resting it lightly on his shoulder again.
This time, Ethan's arm slid around her more fully—holding her close with the perfect balance of tenderness and restraint.
She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of him settle deeply into her.
For the first time in a long time,
she didn't feel alone.
She didn't feel unsure.
She didn't feel guarded.
She felt held.
Wanted.
Safe.
And as they sat beneath the willow tree, wrapped gently in each other's quiet warmth, Amelia realized something softly, undeniably true:
She was starting to trust him with her heart.