“Pres—” Abigail’s voice trembled, barely a whisper as she trailed behind Edward, her fingers unconsciously clutching the hem of her blouse like it might anchor her nerves. The air was quiet save for the soft tap of his footsteps echoing off the tiled floor. He moved with ease, but something about his presence always sent her senses spiraling.
Edward turned as he reached the kitchen, his gaze landing on her with a steady calm. He didn’t speak at first. Just watched her. The pause stretched between them like a taut string.
“E-Edward,” she finally said, the name catching awkwardly in her throat. It had been days since they started living under one roof, yet every time she addressed him directly, it felt like her heart skipped a beat too many.
Edward's expression softened. “What do you want
