The room was wrapped in a soft quiet, the kind of silence that felt alive with unspoken emotion. Amelia sat close to Ethan, her legs folded beneath her, her body angled toward him as though her heart had pulled her there without thinking.
Ethan watched her with the same gentle steadiness he had shown all afternoon—patient, open, careful. His fingers rested lightly on her back, tracing slow, calming patterns that made her feel held without ever feeling confined.
Amelia's breath was slow, warm against his chest.
After a moment, she lifted her head enough to meet his eyes.
"Ethan…" she whispered.
"Yes?" he said softly.
She looked at him for a long second, her gaze full and vulnerable.
"Why do you always make room for me?" she asked.
Ethan brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with the kind of tenderness that made her heart flutter.
"Because I want you here," he said simply.
Her voice trembled slightly.
"And if one day I freeze up again? Or pull back? Or panic?"
"Then I'll pause," he murmured.
"I'll wait with you. Not for you—for you to feel safe again."
Her chest tightened with warmth.
"You really mean that," she whispered.
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't."
Amelia exhaled a shaky breath and looked down at their hands—his resting open on his leg, close enough for her to reach.
Slowly, she slid her fingers toward his.
Ethan didn't move until she touched him.
When her hand settled over his, he folded his fingers around hers gently—slow, respectful, grounding.
Amelia swallowed softly.
"Your hands are warm."
"So are yours," Ethan murmured.
She tilted her head slightly, studying him.
"What does this moment feel like for you?" she asked.
Ethan thought for a heartbeat before answering.
"Like something delicate," he said.
"Something I want to protect. Something I don't want to rush. Something I want to understand."
Her eyes softened at his honesty.
"And you don't feel overwhelmed?" she asked.
"No," he said softly.
"I feel present. And I like being here with you."
Her cheeks warmed quietly.
"I feel present too," she admitted.
"And calmer than I've felt in a long time."
Ethan's thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand.
"That's because you're letting yourself feel without fear," he said gently.
Amelia took a slow breath, letting her eyes linger on his face.
"Ethan…"
She hesitated.
"I think something is changing for me."
He leaned slightly closer, his voice soft but attentive.
"What's changing?"
"My guard," she whispered.
"It's lowering. Slowly… but it is."
Ethan's expression softened into something warm and deep.
"That's beautiful," he murmured.
"And brave."
She looked down, her voice smaller.
"And it scares me."
"I know," Ethan said quietly.
"And I'm right here."
Amelia moved closer, her knee brushing his. Ethan didn't shift away—he adjusted, making space immediately for her.
"I don't want to rush anything," she said.
"We won't," Ethan assured her.
"But I don't want to step back either," she added softly.
"You don't have to," he murmured.
She lifted her hand again, this time touching his jaw gently—her fingertips brushing along the soft stubble there. Ethan stilled under her touch, his breath deepening.
"I like touching you like this," she whispered.
His voice was a low warmth.
"I like when you do."
Her fingertips traced a slow line along his cheekbone. Ethan closed his eyes for a moment, leaning subtly into her touch.
"You feel steady," she murmured.
"You make me steady," he whispered.
She lowered her hand to his chest again, resting it over his heartbeat.
"This," she said softly, "makes me feel connected to you."
Ethan covered her hand with his, holding it there gently.
"Then keep it there," he said.
"As long as you want."
Her breath softened, her chest warming at the simple sincerity of his voice.
"Ethan?"
"Mm?"
"What if I… fall more than I intend to?"
Ethan pulled her close—not suddenly, but with slow, comforting certainty—his forehead lowering to hers.
"Then I'll fall with you," he whispered.
"Slowly. Carefully. Together."
Her eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness in his voice.
"And you won't run?" she whispered.
"Not from you," he murmured.
"Never from you."
A quiet warmth settled across her entire body, sinking deep into her bones. She leaned into him again, letting her cheek rest against his shoulder.
Ethan wrapped his arms around her, his hold secure and gentle.
And as she melted into him, Amelia realized:
This wasn't just emotional closeness anymore.
This was the beginning of something she wanted—
soft, real, steady, and undeniably mutual.
And Ethan held her like a man who intended to stay.