Once the silence settled, their eyes met, and both of them smiled. A small acknowledgment of the closeness that had built between them. Magnus raised his hand slowly, letting his fingers graze her arm as he gestured, a silent invitation for her to come closer.
Dorothy felt her breath catch, a fluttering warmth rising to her cheeks. She leaned in instinctively, drawn by the magnetic pullof the moment, and Magnus followed, his own hands moving with deliberate care, cupping the back of her head as if the world had narrowed to nothing but the space between them.
Their faces were almost touching, the air thick with expectation. Then, a small movement—Eugenia stirring in her sleep, shifting slightly beneath the covers—altered the instant.
Magnus hesitated, letting the moment dissolve with a soft sigh. “Perhaps,” he murmured, brushing a gentle hand along Dorothy’s arm, “we should let Eugenia sleep and prepare for bed ourselves as well.”
Dorothy nodded, a mixture of disappointment and warmth in her chest, and allowed herself to be guided back from the edge of the moment.
After leaving Eugenia tucked safely in her bed, they lingered for a few awkward moments in the hallway, neither quite sure how to close the evening. Magnus’s hands were folded behind his back while Dorothy fidgeted slightly.
“Well… goodnight, Magnus,” she said softly, her voice carrying just enough hesitation to betray her nerves.
“Goodnight, Dorothy,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her a second longer than necessary. Then, with a careful nod, he turned and departed down the corridor, leaving her standing there in the dim candlelight.
Dorothy moved to her room, letting the door close behind her. She changed into her night gown and prepared for bed, yet the quiet of the room seemed heavier than usual, her thoughts stubbornly replaying the evening. The stories, the gentle touches, the near-kiss, and the warmth of Magnus beside her.
Sleep refused to come.
Finally, she rose again, quietly, and made her way down the hall to Magnus’s bedroom. She stood just outside Magnus’s door, her hand resting lightly on the polished wood, took a steadying breath, and knocked softly.
“Magnus… may I come in?”
“Of course,” his deep voice came from inside.
She took only two steps inside, her eyes catching his immediately. “I just wanted to say goodnight properly,” she murmured, her voice quiet, almost hesitant.
Magnus tilted his head, studying her for a moment as he walked over to her. “Is that all?” he asked gently, though there was a spark in his gaze that made her pulse quicken.
Dorothy shook her head, brushing a loose curl from her cheek. “No… I was thinking ahead, actually,” she said, stepping a little closer. “My family will be visiting soon, and I just wanted to remind you. I will prepare everything for their visit.”
Magnus nodded. “Ah, yes. I’ve been thinking about that as well. I look forward to it,” he confirmed, his gaze meeting hers. “I’ve never truly… willingly hosted anyone before. This will be… special.”
Dorothy’s chest warmed at his words, a soft smile spreading across her lips. “I’m sure it will be,” she said, her voice gentle. “Also, I really enjoyed your company today. Thank you for the stories. I look forward to hearing more of them during other picnics.”
Magnus remained quiet for a moment, his eyes following her as she shifted slightly. His gaze lingered, softly tracing the curve of her cheek, the sweep of her neckline, the gentle line of her arms, even the way her nightgown fell around her legs.
Dorothy felt the intensity of his attention and shivered lightly, a mix of warmth and embarrassment rising to her cheeks. She lowered her eyes briefly, then looked up with a small, polite smile. “Well… thank you, Magnus. Goodnight,” she murmured, turning toward the open door.
Magnus’s gaze darkened just slightly, intense and magnetic. “Dorothy?” he called her back quietly.
She turned around, still holding a smile. “Yes?”
Before she could step fully away, Magnus reached for the fabric of her nightgown at the waist and gently, insistently, drew her back toward him. As she followed, caught between surprise anddesire, his other hand moved to close the door behind them with a soft click.
He then guided her carefully back toward the now-shut door, her back pressing lightly against the wood. The space between them contracted, leaving nothing but the warmth of his body and the quiet thrum of their breaths.
Dorothy’s chest heaved as she stood against the door, her heart thrumming with a tension she could no longer bear. Before Magnus could move, before he could speak, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his with a sudden urgency. Her hands went to his face, framing it, tracing the strong lines as if to memorize them in that moment.
Magnus’s hands came up to her waist, pulling her flush against him. The kiss deepened instantly, fierce yet tender, each of them pouring all the yearning, the unspoken longing of the evening, into that single, perfect moment. Her breath mingled with his, and the quiet of the room seemed to amplify every heartbeat, every fluttering pulse of desire.
He tilted her slightly against the door, his lips moving over hers with a slow, deliberate intensity that left Dorothy trembling. Every nerve in her body ached for him, for more of this closeness, this connection that had grown impossible to resist.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Dorothy’s hands lingered on his chest, the warmth of him still pressing against her. A small, almost playful shiver ran through her, and she murmured his name. “Magnus…”
Her mind raced, caught between the thrill of the kiss and the ache of wanting to stay near him, just a little longer. She had grown so fond of his presence, so accustomed to the warmth and safety of being near him, that leaving now felt like madness. Every instinct urged her to linger, to steal just another heartbeat in his arms.
But Magnus met her gaze and gently eased her from him. “Goodnight, Dorothy,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth. “Sleep well.”
