The afternoon light drifted slowly across the room, growing warmer, softer, almost golden. Amelia remained in Ethan's arms, listening to the gentle cadence of his heartbeat. Each steady thump seemed to calm her, steady her, remind her that this moment was real and safe.
Ethan's hand rested lightly on her back—not moving, not pulling—just holding her in a quiet way that made her chest feel warm.
After a long stretch of silence, Amelia spoke softly.
"Ethan… if I'm quiet for too long, will you think something is wrong?"
"No," he said gently.
"I'll think you're thinking. Or resting. Or just being yourself."
She breathed out slowly.
"That's… actually comforting."
"Good," Ethan murmured.
"That's what I want for you. Comfort. Safety. Choice."
Amelia moved slightly so she could look at him. Ethan kept his hands still, letting her shift freely.
Her eyes were gentle, searching.
"You make me feel understood."
Ethan's expression softened deeply.
"You make it easy to want to understand you."
Her gaze dipped, her fingers brushing his shirt lightly.
"Most people don't try."
"I'm not most people," he said quietly.
Her breath caught, warmth spreading through her chest.
She didn't know how to describe the softness settling inside her, but it felt like something unfolding—something she'd kept locked away for a long time.
"Ethan," she whispered, "I keep thinking… what if this disappears?"
"It won't," he said, steady and sure.
"You sound certain."
He nodded.
"I'm certain about you."
Her heart fluttered.
"Why?" she asked, voice trembling.
He lifted a hand, brushing a stray curl from her cheek with gentle precision.
"Because," he said softly, "you're someone worth being certain about."
Amelia's breath stopped for a moment—caught between surprise and emotion.
Ethan continued, his voice low and sincere:
"And I'm not afraid of feelings, Amelia. Not mine, not yours. Slow doesn't scare me. Care doesn't scare me. You don't scare me."
Her eyes shimmered with something tender.
"Even when I'm complicated?"
"Especially then," he murmured.
Her lips parted, a soft exhale leaving her.
She pressed a little closer, resting her forehead against his collarbone.
Her voice was a whisper against his skin.
"I don't know how to be… this close to someone."
"You're doing it perfectly," Ethan said.
"You really think so?"
He nodded, his chin brushing her hair lightly.
"Yes. You're not forcing yourself. You're not hiding. You're choosing. That's enough."
Her shoulders loosened at his words, something like relief softening her entire posture.
"Can I tell you something?" she asked softly.
"Always."
"I want to open up more," she whispered, "but I'm scared of giving too much."
Ethan's hold tightened just slightly—warm, reassuring, never confining.
"You give what feels right," he said softly.
"No more. No less. And I'll never ask you to give what you're not ready to."
Amelia felt her throat tighten, emotion pressing at the back of her eyes.
"Why are you so gentle with me?" she murmured.
"Because you respond to gentleness," he whispered.
"And because that's the version of myself I want you to see."
She swallowed, her voice small.
"You don't have to hide your flaws."
"I'm not hiding them," he said quietly.
"I'm just showing you the truth of how I feel. And the truth is… you make me want to be gentle."
Her heart fluttered hard.
She lifted her head slowly, meeting his gaze.
Their faces were close—close enough that she could see the soft reflection of herself in his eyes.
"Ethan…" she breathed.
"I'm starting to want… more time. More closeness. More… you."
Ethan inhaled, his eyes warming with something deep, almost aching.
"I want more too," he whispered.
"But only when you're ready."
"I think…" Amelia said softly, holding his gaze, "…I'm getting there."
Ethan's breath faltered—barely, but she felt it.
"Then we take that step whenever you decide," he said, voice low and tender.
"No rushing. No pressure. Just… us."
A small, timid smile curved her lips.
"I like the word 'us,'" she whispered.
Ethan's thumb brushed her cheek slowly—soft, warm, reverent.
"So do I," he murmured.
She leaned in again, resting her head beneath his jaw. Ethan wrapped both arms around her, pulling her into a secure and comforting warmth that she had never felt anywhere else.
And as she sat there, enveloped in Ethan's presence, Amelia realized something quietly powerful:
She wasn't afraid of this anymore.
She was beginning to embrace it.
To want it.
To trust it.
And Ethan held her like a promise that he wouldn't let this moment slip away.