CHAPTER 15
678 Words
Chapter 15 — The First Soft Touch
The walk to class was quiet.
Not tense.
Not awkward.
Just… quiet in a way that felt strangely warm.
Damian walked beside her, not too close, not too far, like he was terrified of making her uncomfortable again. His long strides slowed to match hers. Every few seconds, he glanced at her—quietly, carefully—like she was something fragile he wasn’t sure he deserved to be near.
Amara wasn’t used to this version of him.
Gentle.
Controlled.
Almost… shy?
They reached the courtyard, where sunlight filtered through tall oak trees. Damian stopped under one, turning to her.
“You’re still upset,” he said softly.
Amara looked down at her shoes. “I’m trying not to be.”
He hesitated, then asked something no one expected from Damian Blackwood:
“Can I try to make it better?”
Her heart fluttered.
“Damian… I don’t need gifts.”
He shook his head. “Not gifts.”
He took a breath—deep, steadying, nervous.
“I just want… to sit with you.”
She blinked.
Damian Blackwood, billionaire heir, campus ruler, feared by half the university… wanted to sit with her?
“Why?” she whispered.
His eyes softened in a way she wasn’t prepared for.
“Because being near you calms me down,” he admitted quietly.
“And after today… I need that.”
A soft ache tugged inside her chest.
She nodded.
He exhaled—relief flooding his face—and they moved to a bench under the tree. Students passed by, whispering, watching, but for once, Damian ignored them all.
He sat beside her, keeping a careful inch of space.
Hands on his knees.
Back straight.
Like he was afraid to relax.
Amara looked at him… truly looked.
He always held himself like steel.
But today, she saw the tension in his jaw… the exhaustion in his eyes… the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fingers.
“Damian,” she said softly, “you’re shaking.”
He paused.
Looked down.
His hands were trembling.
“I—” he started, swallowing. “I’m not used to… feeling things this strongly. It’s distracting.”
Amara did something without thinking.
She reached out…
and gently placed her hand over his.
Just a light touch.
Barely there.
But Damian froze like she’d hit him with lightning.
His eyes snapped up to hers—wide, startled, breath caught in his throat.
“Amara…” he said, voice shaking.
“I’m not scared of you,” she whispered.
His mouth parted—just slightly—as if he didn’t know how to process that.
No one touched him without fear.
No one comforted him.
No one cared if his hands trembled.
But she did.
Very slowly, Damian turned his hand over…
and laced his fingers through hers.
His grip wasn’t tight.
It wasn’t possessive.
It was careful.
Tentative.
Like he was afraid she might vanish if he held too hard.
“You’re warm,” she murmured before she could stop herself.
A small, breathless laugh escaped him—quiet, disbelieving.
“You’re shaking now,” he whispered back.
She looked down.
It was true.
Her hand trembled in his.
He lifted his free hand and gently—so gently—touched her wrist with his thumb.
“Are you scared?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered honestly.
“Just nervous.”
His lips curved into the smallest, softest smile—a smile she’d never seen from him.
“Good,” he murmured.
“Because I’m nervous too.”
Her breath caught.
Damian Blackwood… nervous?
He leaned slightly closer, but not enough to overwhelm her.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
“For touching me.”
A pause.
“For not pulling away.”
He squeezed her hand gently, like a promise.
“I won’t forget this.”
And for the first time…
Amara believed him.
Not because of fear.
But because of the way he held her hand like it meant everything.
- Writer
