He stares at me for a beat. "Stalemate."
"Not if we're both honest."
He studies me for a long moment. "You want someone to take care of you. To set the boundaries so you don't have to hold everything together alone."
I nod, throat dry.
"And I want..." He pauses. "Someone who trusts me enough to let go. Who doesn't run when things get complicated."
"I don't run," I say quietly.
"Prove it."
The challenge hangs in the air between us.
He stands and moves to sit beside me on the bed. He turns and looks at me. “Give me honesty, sweetheart. I won’t judge you.”
"Here's the truth," I say. "I've wanted this,” I nod towards the book, “the dynamic, the care, all of it, for years. But I was too scared to ask for it. Scared I'd be laughed at or told it was weird."
"It's not weird."
"Scared it would change how people saw me. Like I couldn't be sunshine and sparkle and also want someone to—" I stop.
"To what?"
I take a breath. "To tell me when I'm doing too much. To make me slow down. To take care of me when I forget to take care of myself. To spank me when I’m naughty. I know, it’s weak…"
Justin's expression softens. "That's not weakness. That's trust."
"I know that deep down. But knowing and believing are different things."
He nods slowly. "What if we tried something?"
My heart kicks. "What kind of something?"
"Honesty. For the rest of this weekend. No deflecting. No jokes to fill the silence. Just... what we actually want."
"That sounds terrifying."
"It is." He meets my eyes. "But I think we're both tired of pretending."
I glance at the window. Outside, the snow falls heavier, cocooning us in white.I don’t think we will be getting out of here anytime soon.
"Okay," I say finally. "Honesty. But you go first."
His mouth quirks. "I want to know what happens when you stop performing. When you let someone else hold the reins for a while."
Heat floods my cheeks. "That's very forward, Mr. Bell."
"You asked for honesty, Miss White."
The formal address shouldn't send shivers down my spine. But it does.
"Your turn," he prompts.
I swallow. "I want to know what you're like when you stop controlling everything. When you let yourself just... feel."
For a moment, neither of us moves.The wind howls against the window. And somewhere in the distance, the timer turns on and a string of Christmas lights flickers, casting colored shadows through the window.
