“I tried to stay away from you,” I admit.
The truth feels different coming out now.
Sharper. Cleaner.
“Thought I’d mess this up. Thought I’d ruin something good.”
My hand slides to her waist, steadying her—but I’m the one grounding myself.
Because if I don’t—I’m going to lose control completely.
“You didn’t listen,” she whispers, and bites her lip, teasing me with its softness.
“No,” I say.
And I don’t regret it.
Not even a little.
The city pulses outside.
Light.
Noise.
Everything I used to think mattered.
But standing here?
It all feels distant.
Muted.
Like background noise to something bigger.
Something that’s already changing me.
“You said you’re not a backup plan,” I remind her.
My voice drops.
Focused.
Certain.
“And I want you to understand, Sunshine, that I know. I know you’re not.”
She swallows.
And I see it—that moment.
That shift where fear and want collide.
I step closer.
Close enough that there’s no space left between us.
Her body meets mine—soft, warm, real—and the contact hits like a spark to dry tinder.