The air beneath the willow felt heavier now—not in a suffocating way, but full, warm, intimate. Amelia remained in Ethan's arms for several long minutes, listening to the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Each breath seemed to echo inside her chest, softening her in ways she didn't know were possible.
Eventually, she shifted, not pulling away—just repositioning so she could see his face more clearly. Ethan loosened his hold slightly but kept his arm around her, thumb brushing slow circles at her waist.
"Comfortable?" he whispered.
Amelia nodded.
"Too comfortable, maybe."
"Is that a bad thing?" Ethan smiled gently.
"No," she murmured. "Just… new."
Their eyes held each other for a quiet moment, and Amelia felt that familiar flutter again—the soft, warm pull that told her she wasn't imagining this connection.
"Ethan," she said softly.
"Yes?"
"I keep wondering if I'm doing too much…"
"You're doing the perfect amount," he replied without hesitation.
She lowered her gaze.
"What if someday I stop being brave?"
Ethan tilted his head, catching her eyes again.
"Then I'll be brave for us both," he said quietly.
"And when you're ready, I'll let you take the lead again."
Her chest tightened in a warm, tender ache.
Amelia exhaled, sinking into the moment.
"Why are you like this?"
"Like what?"
"So… careful," she whispered.
"So gentle with me."
Ethan's thumb brushed her side again, slow and thoughtful.
"Because you deserve it," he said simply.
"And because I don't want to hurt you. Ever."
Her eyes softened.
"You say things that make my heart feel strange."
"Strange?" he smiled.
"Soft," she corrected shyly.
"And… open."
Ethan swallowed, the movement subtle but intense.
"Good," he said softly.
"I want your heart to feel safe with me."
She looked down at where their hands rested—her fingers loosely curled on his forearm, his hand warm at her back.
After a moment, Amelia lifted her hand and hesitated… before brushing her fingertips gently along the line of his jaw. Ethan's breath stilled.
"Is this okay?" she whispered.
More than okay.
His eyes said it before his voice did.
"Yes," he murmured, voice low.
"You can touch me however you want."
Her fingers traveled a little higher, tracing the soft stubble along his cheek. Ethan didn't move. Didn't rush. Just watched her with quiet intensity, letting her explore at her own pace.
"I like this," she whispered.
"I like you," he said.
Her breath trembled.
"Ethan…"
"Hmm?"
"Why does this feel like… more?"
He leaned a little closer—slow, gentle, asking permission with every inch.
"Because it is," he whispered.
Amelia's pulse softened and soared all at once.
"Are we… in something?" she asked, voice barely above a breath.
Ethan didn't speak right away.
He looked at her—really looked—his eyes tracing her expression, her uncertainty, her hope.
Then, quiet but undeniable, he whispered:
"I think we're beginning something.
Something real."
Her fingers stilled against his cheek.
"And what if I want that?" she breathed.
Ethan's voice dropped to a tender whisper.
"Then we keep going. Slow. Honest. Together."
Amelia inhaled shakily.
"Together," she repeated softly.
"Together," Ethan echoed.
A quiet warmth settled between them, deeper than before—almost tangible.
And then… Amelia surprised herself.
She leaned in, her forehead lightly touching his.
Not a kiss.
Just closeness.
A gentle, emotional offering.
Ethan closed his eyes instantly, as if the moment stole his breath.
"Amelia…" he murmured.
She stayed there, breathing him in.
"I'm really letting you in, aren't I?" she whispered.
"Yes," he breathed.
"And I'm going to take care of every part you give me."
Her heart melted.
She pulled back just enough to see his face.
"Can we stay a little longer?" she asked softly.
"As long as you want," Ethan whispered, already pulling her gently back into his arms.
And under the willow tree, wrapped in warmth and new beginnings, Amelia rested her head against his chest—
safe, held, and slowly falling for the man who handled her heart like something precious.