When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing heavily. She rested her forehead against mine, eyes closed as if savoring the moment.
"I’m glad too," I found myself saying softly.
Beth opened her eyes and smiled again, a genuine smile that reached all the way up to her eyes. It felt like a promise of something new—something worth holding onto.
And for once, I allowed myself to believe it might be true.
She nestled against my chest, her petite frame fitting perfectly into the crook of my arm. She felt warm, almost fragile, and my arm instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer. It was a natural gesture, one I didn't have to think about.
As she settled in, her breathing evened out, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest against mine. The realization hit me like a freight train—she trusted me. This bright, hopeful woman had chosen to let down her guard and lean on me.
I wasn't sure how I felt about it. A mix of emotions churned inside—fear, doubt, but also a glimmer of something I hadn't felt in a long time: hope. Could I deserve this? Could I be someone worth trusting?
I wanted to believe it. At least, I wanted to try.
Beth's breathing grew softer, more rhythmic. It wasn't long before she fell asleep against me. For the first time in what felt like forever, the loneliness that had been present in my life began to fade.
I rested my cheek against the top of her head and closed my eyes, allowing myself to savor the moment.
I should have woken her up. I should have taken her home. But the thought of doing either seemed unbearable. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel alone. The idea of her leaving, of returning to the quiet emptiness, twisted my insides.
So I didn’t move. I didn’t want to accidentally wake her. Beth's soft breathing against my chest was a lullaby I didn't know I needed. Her trust, her warmth, it all felt too precious to disrupt.
Her head rested against me, her hair tickling my chin. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a dim glow across the room. It was peaceful in a way that was almost foreign to me.
I stared at the shadows dancing on the walls, feeling an unfamiliar contentment settle over me. It was fragile, like glass—one wrong move and it would shatter.
The steady rhythm of Beth’s breathing slowed even further as she slipped into deeper sleep. It was strange, this feeling of wanting to protect her happiness.
Minutes passed, or maybe hours; I couldn’t tell. The chill of the night crept in around us. Still, I stayed perfectly still.
My eyelids grew heavy, the day’s weariness finally catching up with me. The soothing presence of Beth made it impossible to stay awake any longer. With one last look at her peaceful face, I let my eyes close.
Sleep came swiftly and without dreams.
"Well, well, well, Daryla has a girl at home," a voice drawled.
My eyes snapped open. Connor was standing in my living room, a smirk on his face. I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my anger in check.
Beth was still asleep next to me, her head resting against my chest. Judging by the darkness outside the windows, it was still early in the morning.
"What the hell, Connor?" I asked in a low voice, trying not to wake Beth.
Connor's smirk grew wider. "You fuck her yet?"
I stood up abruptly, careful not to disturb Beth. "Get out," I growled.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Easy, big guy. I was just making conversation."
"It's not funny," I said through gritted teeth. "You have no right to be here."
He shrugged. "I was just passing by and saw the light on. Figured I'd stop in and say hi."
"Well, you've said hi. Now fuck off."
He looked over at Beth, who was starting to stir. "Who's your friend?"
"None of your business," I said, moving to stand between him and the couch.
