Amelia
The morning light slips through the curtains, casting soft patterns on the floor as I lie in bed, wide awake. Last night lingers in my thoughts like an unfinished conversation, the weight of it still pressing on me. Ethan’s gestures, the quiet moments, the vulnerability in his words — it all felt too real. Too much like something I wasn’t supposed to be a part of.
I roll over, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the knot in my stomach. It wasn’t just the dinner itself. It was everything that came after. The way Ethan walked me to my room, the brief pause in his step as if he were waiting for me to say something more. And when I didn’t, he simply nodded, his expression unreadable. I can still feel the faint touch of his hand on my arm, a subtle gesture that was far more
