The night was quiet, the city outside a blur of lights and distant traffic. Inside Elisse’s apartment, the soft glow of a lamp cast warm shadows over the room, reflecting the stillness and the anticipation between them.
William sat beside her on the couch, his hand resting over hers, the warmth of their touch sending a shiver down both their spines. For months, they had walked the delicate line between closeness and caution—learning to trust again, step by careful step. Tonight, the air between them carried something different: a readiness neither of them could ignore.
Elisse’s eyes met his, searching, tentative. “I… I’m not sure,” she whispered, her fingers tightening slightly in his.
William leaned closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to be sure,” he
