No hesitation.
No deflection.
Just truth.
Something in my chest tightens—not uncomfortable.
Just… unfamiliar.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“I know.”
A pause.
“I want to.”
That lands deeper than it should.
Because there’s no obligation in it.
No expectation.
Just choice.
I study him for a moment, the low light softening the edges of everything, making this feel separate from the rest of the world.
Safer.
“You always this stubborn?” I ask.
A faint hint of something shifts in his expression.
“Only when it matters.”
“And I matter.”
Not a question.
His gaze holds mine.
“Yes.”
Simple.
Certain.
I look away first.
Not because I have to.
Because I feel it.
That weight.
That pull.
The way something is shifting between us, getting stronger instead of quieter.