She studies me, confusion and vulnerability warring in her expression.
"What?"
"What I've always seen."
I take a breath, choosing my words carefully.
Because this matters and she needs to hear it.
"I see a girl whose mind is constantly battling with her heart because her heart chooses to feel what her mind chooses to ignore for the sake of self-preservation."
Her lips part slightly, but I continue before she can deflect or argue.
"I see a beautiful girl with an amazing heart and a restless mind. Thoughts and ideas damaged by broken promises and lies from people who didn't deserve you in the first place."
"Nate—"
"I'm not done."
"I see someone who's been convinced she has to choose between what she wants and what's safe. Who's learned to ignore her own instincts because other people told her they were wrong. Someone who's spent so long trying to be what everyone else needs that she forgot what she needs."
I glance at her, and her eyes are wide, glassy with unshed tears.
"And I see someone who's starting to remember that maybe those instincts were right all along."
She doesn't speak and I don't push. Just let the words settle and let her sit with them.
We pull up to the studio, and I go to get out and head toward her cabin, but her hand lands on my arm.
"Wait."
"What?"
"Take me to the studio." The words come out rushed, unplanned. "I'm not done listening to music tonight."
I war with myself.
Because taking her to the studio—alone, late at night, when she's tipsy and vulnerable and looking at me like I'm the only solid thing in her world—is dangerous.
Not for her. For me. Because my restraint has limits, and she keeps testing every single one of them.
"Nora, I don't think?—"
"Please."
She squeezes my arm, and even through my shirt the contact sends heat through me.
"I just... I don't want to go back to an empty cabin. And you're the only person I want to be with right now."
The confession hangs in the air between us.
Raw. Honest. Impossible to ignore.
How does she not know that I'd give her anything she asked for?
Finally, I nod.
"Okay. Yeah. Okay."
