"I want her. Not to protect. To be with."— Elias
Of course I like you. God, I love you.
Elias
He couldn't sleep.
The house was dark, silent, too big without her.
He'd gone over there just to check.
Just because the lights were out. Just to make sure she wasn't scared.
That's what he told himself.
And now?
Now all he could think about was the way she looked when she opened the door.
Hair messy. Eyes wide. Sweater too big, hanging off one shoulder.
And when she said, "You came?"—God.
He'd barely stopped himself from reaching for her then.
And when she touched his arm—
I like it when you hold me.
The words hadn't been soft. They'd been sure.
Like she knew exactly what they meant.
And now… he couldn't stop hearing them.
She wasn't a kid anymore.
She hadn't been for a long time.
But it was like his mind had finally caught up to what his body had known for months:
She was the person he wanted.
Not to protect. Not to fix.
To be with.
And that terrified him.
Because how do you let yourself want something you've spent five years telling yourself you can't have?
How do you let your hand stay when it brushes hers?
How do you let your eyes linger when she looks at you like she's not afraid anymore?
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.
She'd looked at him differently tonight.
Not just like she needed him.
Like she saw him.
Do you like me too?
The question hadn't left her mouth. But it echoed in his head anyway.
And now… he was asking it too.
She trusts me.
She still sees me as safe.
But I want more.
I want her hands in mine, not just when she's cold.
I want her voice whispering my name, not just when she's scared.
I want—
He exhaled, palms pressed to his face.
This was dangerous.
But maybe for the first time, he was ready to stop pretending it wasn't real.
Because if this was a line…
He wasn't sure he could keep from crossing it anymore.
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