I looked up at her, really looked at her. Her dark hair was mussed from lying against my pillow, and there were new lines of exhaustion around her eyes. She'd stayed awake watching over me while I slept off my crisis.
"You didn't have to do that," I said.
"Yes, I did." Her voice was matter-of-fact, but her hand was still stroking my hair with infinite gentleness. "That's what you do for people you care about."
People you care about. The words settled something in my chest that I hadn't realized was still raw.
I shifted, propping myself up on my elbow so I could see her better. "Izzy — "
"You don't have to talk about it," she said quickly. "I meant what I said earlier. You don't owe me explanations."
"I know. But I want to." I traced a pattern on her shirt with my finger, gathering my thoughts. "I became a nurse because I wanted to help people. To protect them. And when I can't..." I shook my head. "It makes me question everything."
"That's because you care," she said simply. "That's why you're good at what you do."
"Sometimes caring isn't enough."
"No," she agreed. "Sometimes it's not. But it's still worth doing."
We lay there in the gathering dusk, her hand in my hair, my weight against her solid warmth. The apartment was quiet except for the distant hum of traffic, the world outside moving on while we existed in this small pocket of peace.
I became aware, gradually, of other things. The way her breath hitched slightly when my thumb brushed against the exposed skin at her waist. The way she was looking at me, herdark eyes holding something I hadn't seen before. The way the space between us seemed to be shrinking without either of us moving.
"Jimmy," she said, my name barely a whisper.
"Yeah?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
Something shifted in the air between us. The comfort and protection she'd offered was transforming into something else, something that made my pulse quicken and my skin feel too tight.
I leaned down and kissed her, soft and tentative at first, giving her every chance to pull away. Instead, she kissed me back, her hand sliding from my hair to cup the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
This kiss was different from the ones in my kitchen. Those had been sweet, exploratory, full of possibility. This one was deeper, more certain. It tasted like trust and want and the kind of intimacy that came from seeing someone at their most vulnerable and choosing to stay.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing harder. I searched her face, looking for any sign of hesitation, any indication that this was too much, too fast.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"I've never been more sure of anything," she said, and pulled me back down to her.
What followed was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. There was no urgency, no rush toward a finish line. We moved slowly, carefully, learning each other with a patience that felt almost sacred. Her hands were gentle but sure as she helped me out of my wrinkled shirt, her fingers tracing the lines of my shoulders like she was memorizing them.
When I returned the favor, carefully unbuttoning her uniform shirt, she watched my face with an intensity that made my chest tight. There was trust in her eyes, andsomething that looked like wonder, as if she couldn't quite believe this was happening.
"You're beautiful," I whispered against her collarbone, and felt her shiver beneath me.
She reached for me again, guiding me in slowly, her breath catching as our bodies connected. There was nothing frantic in it — no surge of lust demanding urgency. Just heat, deep and steady, rising with every long, unhurried thrust.
Her legs wrapped around my hips as I moved within her, the friction exquisite, building with each stroke like the slow burn of a fire catching. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, grounding herself, and when I dipped my head to kiss her again — soft, lingering — she made a sound low in her throat that almost undid me, a breathy, half-laugh.
"What?" I asked, brushing my lips along her collarbone.
"I just …" She tilted her head back, eyes fluttering shut. "This is already the longest sex I've ever had."
I paused, blinking, unsure I'd heard her right.
"What do you mean?"
