Melody
The kiss still lingers when he pulls back, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm and steady like he’s anchoring us both.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to talk yourself out of staying.”
My smile is small, but it’s real.
And then something inside me shifts—not fear, not hesitation, but choice.
I don’t think. I don’t analyze the moment or measure the risk. I just feel the truth of it in my chest, the certainty that for once I don’t want to retreat. I want to stay. I want this.
So I reach for him.
My hands slide up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt, and I pull him back to me before the space can return. His breath catches this time, a quiet sound that tells me I surprised him. I kiss him again—slower at first, then deeper, more sure. Not despe
