Juan’s hand moved up slowly, and the side of his thumb lightly touched Arya’s cheek. His touch was warm and steady, not rushed, like he was making sure he didn’t startle her. It was soft, careful. When his skin brushed hers, Arya stopped breathing for just a second. Her chest felt tight, like her lungs had forgotten how to work. He leaned in a little closer, and she didn’t move. His eyes were calm, but there was something behind them— something he wasn’t saying out loud. An emotion that he was scared to admit. His lips were parted slightly, as if he was about to speak, but no words came.
Arya didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it didn’t matter. One of them leaned forward, and then the other. Slowly, almost without thinking, they both moved closer. The space between them that was just a fe
