He cups my face, thumbs brushing beneath my eyes, as if checking for tears.
“I can do that,” he says. “I don’t know how to do it well. But I can do it.”
That’s enough.
He kisses me again, slower this time. The kiss feels different from the others we’ve shared. Less about tension. More about trust.
When he breaks away, he rests his forehead against mine again, breathing us both back down.
“I don’t want to rush this,” he says. “Not because I don’t want you. Because I do.”
My pulse stutters at that.
“But because I want to remember it,” he continues. “I want to know I didn’t hide from it.”
My chest aches in the best way.
I nod. “Okay.”
He lets out a breath that sounds like relief.
His hands slide to mine, fingers lacing together.
“Stay,” he says quietly.
Not as a demand.
As a request.
I squeeze his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The city glows outside the bathroom window, indifferent and alive, and for the first time since I’ve known him, Colton doesn’t look like he’s bracing against it.
He looks like he’s finally stepping into it.
The water never turns on.
That’s what surprises me most.
We’re standing in his shower, the city glowing beyond glass, and he hasn’t reached for the handle. He hasn’t rushed anything. He hasn’t tried to drown the moment in heat or distraction.
Colton stands there with me, his hands warm at my waist, his forehead resting against mine, like he’s afraid if he lets go even for a second, everything he said might break him.
His breathing evens out first.Mine follows.
I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath my palms.
He swallows, eyes flicking down to my mouth and back up again.
“I don’t want to disappear again,” he says. “I don’t want to wake up and realize I pushed you away because it was easier than facing myself.”
A tightness grips my chest.
“Then don’t,” I say simply.
He exhales, a slow release, like he’s been holding that breath for years.
His hands move then. They aren’t urgent or frantic. He cups my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks with a tenderness that makes my throat ache.
