Cyril
Her presence beside me was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. She smelled faintly of the perfume she had worn to the office, soft and subtle, with just a hint of jasmine, and it was intoxicating. I had wanted this for so long, yet now that it was here, I found myself afraid to move, afraid to break the fragile bubble we had created around ourselves. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again—not to miscommunication, not to misunderstandings, not to anyone else.
“Alan…” she murmured after a long silence, her voice soft, almost uncertain. I squeezed her hand slightly in response, urging her to say what she needed to, without breaking the quiet between us.
She was trembling just a little—not from fear, but from the weight of everything we had been through. I could feel
