Octavia's Point of View
Rafael’s hand lingers against my cheek, warm and steady, and I can feel the tremor running through him. His eyes search mine, not with the usual fire, but with something softer, something that makes my chest ache. For a moment, I think he will step back, swallow his feelings, shove them down like he always does when his walls snap back into place.
But this time he does not.
Instead, he leans in, slow, hesitant, like he is giving me every chance to push him away.
I don’t.
When his lips finally brush against mine, it is nothing like I expected. It is not fierce or demanding, it is careful. Vulnerable. Almost questioning, as if he is not sure he deserves this. My breath catches, but I do not pull away. Instead, I let the space between us vanish, my hand curling li
