Safe With You

Take a leap

~Greyaon~

The morning’s bright and cold — the kind of autumn air that bites a little when you breathe it in.

Poppy’s in the back seat, humming to some pop song on the radio, clutching the friendship bracelet she and Quinn made.

“Daddy,” she says suddenly, eyes wide in the mirror, “do you think Quinn will like the extra beads I added?”

“She’ll love them, Popps,” I reply, smiling despite the knot in my chest.

Because truth be told, it’s not Quinn I’m thinking about. It’s her mother.

Alyssa.

I barely slept last night. Markus’s words kept echoing in my head — You deserve to be happy. She does too.

And then, every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was her face. The way she looked at me in the hospital. The way she said thank you like no one ever had before.

So when Poppy asked this morning if I’d drive her to school, I didn’t even think — I just said yes.

Part of me knew Alyssa would be there.

And when I pull into the school car park, that same part of me that’s been trying to be reasonable just… gives up.

She’s standing by her car, Quinn’s hand in hers, hair catching the sunlight — all black and red silk, her coat cinched perfectly at the waist, those eyes as striking as ever. She looks like everything I didn’t know I needed until I met her.

My breath catches.

Poppy spots Quinn first and bolts from the car with a squeal. “Quinn!”

Quinn shrieks in return, throwing her arms around Poppy. The two of them chatter like they haven’t seen each other in months, even though it’s been less than a day.

And then Alyssa looks up.

Our eyes meet, and something inside me clicks into place.

She smiles — hesitant, uncertain — and that’s all it takes. Every careful boundary, every excuse, every wall I’ve built between us… gone.

“To hell with it,” I mutter under my breath.

I cross the distance between us before I can second-guess myself.

She opens her mouth — maybe to say good morning, maybe to tell me off — but I don’t give her the chance. My hands find her face, gentle but firm, tilting her chin up, and then my mouth is on hers.

The world narrows to that one point of contact.

Her lips are soft, warm, and when she gasps against me, I feel it like an electric current down my spine. She doesn’t pull away — not at first. Her hands clutch at the lapels of my coat, holding me like she’s trying to make sure this is real.

It’s not gentle — it’s weeks of restraint breaking all at once. It’s everything we’ve both been too afraid to admit.

And when she finally kisses me back, slow and desperate, the sound she makes into my mouth undoes me completely.

For a moment, there’s no school, no parents, no rules — just us.

When I finally pull back, we’re both breathless. Her lips are flushed, her cheeks pink, and she’s staring at me like she’s forgotten how to form words.

“Greyson,” she whispers, barely audible.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the hospital,” I admit, my voice low, rough. “And if that was a mistake, I’ll apologise later. But right now, I don’t regret a single bloody second.”

~Alyssa~

I can’t move.

I can still feel him — the weight of his hands on my face, the taste of him on my lips, the warmth that’s left me trembling.

It’s like every nerve in my body has just woken up.

For a heartbeat, I forget where we are. The chatter of other parents, the sound of car doors, the faint laughter of children — it’s all background noise, distant and unreal.

He’s looking at me like he’s memorising every inch of my face, and it takes everything I have not to reach for him again.

My lips are swollen, my pulse wild.

“Greyson…” It’s the only word I can manage, and even that comes out shaky.

He steps closer, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

I swallow hard. I should. I know I should. But the words won’t come.

Instead, I whisper, “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

He smiles faintly — that maddening, sincere smile that makes it impossible to stay angry. “Yeah,” he says, eyes flicking to my mouth again. “But I’m not sorry I did.”

Before I can reply, Quinn tugs at my coat, breaking the spell. “Mummy, can Poppy come over after school again?”

Poppy’s beaming up at me, hopeful, completely unaware of the earthquake that’s just happened between her dad and me.

I manage to find my voice. “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

Greyson’s still watching me, his gaze softer now, apologetic but unrepentant.

“I’ll text you later,” he says quietly.

And before I can protest, he gives me one last look — the kind that makes my heart thud painfully — and turns to take Poppy’s hand.

As they walk away, I catch my reflection in the car window. My lipstick’s smudged, my lips are still tingling, and I look like a woman who’s just had the ground pulled out from under her — and liked it.

I exhale shakily, running a thumb across my mouth.

“What the hell are you doing, Alyssa?” I whisper to myself.

But deep down, I already know.

I’m falling. And this time, I’m not sure I want to stop.