The silence between them felt heavier than ever, not because it was empty but because it was full of something waiting to break through, something that had been building for too long to stay contained any longer, and as Zein stood there, she realized that the only thing left between them wasn't uncertainty anymore—it was expression.
It was the simple but impossible act of turning everything she felt into words, and that scared her more than anything else, because once she said it, there would be no going back, no pretending, no distance left to hide behind, while Ace stood there like he understood that completely, like he knew exactly why she was hesitating, but wasn't going to step in and say it for her, wasn't going to take that moment away from her, because it had to be hers.
"You're still thinking," he said.
"Yes," she replied.
"You've been thinking for too long," he said.
"I know," she said.
"Then stop," he said.
"…it's not that simple," she replied.
"It is," he said.
Zein frowned.
"…you always say that," she said.
"Because it always is," he replied.
Zein shook her head.
"…no, it's not," she said.
"It is when you stop complicating it," he said.
Zein looked at him.
"…and what if I can't?" she asked.
"You can," he said.
"…how do you know that?" she asked.
"Because you're already here," he replied.
Zein's breath slowed.
"…that doesn't mean I'm ready," she said.
"It means you're close," he said.
Zein hesitated.
"…this is frustrating," she said.
"I know," he replied.
"…then help me," she said.
Ace didn't move.
"I already am," he said.
"…how?" she asked.
"By not rushing you," he replied.
Zein stared at him.
"…that's not helping," she said.
"It is," he said.
"…how?" she asked again.
Ace's voice lowered.
"Because when you say it, it won't be forced," he said.
Zein's breath slowed again.
"…and if I don't say it?" she asked.
Ace didn't hesitate.
"You will," he said.
Zein looked at him—
And for a moment—
She almost spoke.