Close enough to smell her, that scent that's been haunting me, something floral and warm underneath the compound's antiseptic air. Close enough to see the slight tremor in her hands. Close enough to count her eyelashes if I wanted to, dark against her pale skin, framing those eyes that see too much.
"I've thought about you constantly." The words escape before I can catch them. "Every hour. I kept walking to your door and stopping myself. Kept reaching for you in rooms where you weren't."
Her breath catches. The small sound undoes something in me.
"Maximus."
"I know I'm not supposed to say this. I know you asked for space." I stop. Force myself to breathe even though I don't need to. "But you're here. And I can't pretend I don't want you closer. I can't pretend these past nights haven't been the longest of my existence."
"Don't." Her voice is barely a whisper. "Don't say anything else."
I go still.
We stand there, two feet apart, the space between us thick with everything we're not doing. I can feel the pull toward her. Can see her feeling it too. The wanting is a living thing, straining against the leash I've wrapped around it.
My hands flex at my sides. Every instinct screams to close the distance, to cup her face in my palms, to kiss her until neither of us can think.
I don't move.
She asked me to stop. And I will keep stopping, keep stepping back, keep proving myself, for as long as she needs.
"I should go," I say. The words feel like swallowing glass.
"Yes."
I don't move.
"Maximus."
"I know." The breath I release is ragged. "I know."
I make myself turn. Make myself walk toward the door. Every step is an act of will. Every inch of distance feels like something tearing.
I'm almost there when I hear her move.
Footsteps. Quick. Determined.
"Maximus. Wait."
I stop. Turn.
She's standing in the middle of the room, her hands curled into fists at her sides, her eyes blazing with something I'm afraid to name.
"I'm done waiting," she says. "I'm done hiding. I'm done using my freedom to build walls against the one person I actually want to let in."
I don't move. Don't breathe.
"Celeste..."
"You stepped back when I asked you to. You gave me space. You proved that my choices matter more to you than your wanting." She takes a step toward me. Then another. "So now I'm making a choice."
"What choice?"
She crosses the remaining distance. Stops close enough that her scent floods my senses.
"Don't step back this time." Her voice is low. Certain. "Don't walk away. Don't give me space."
My control shatters.
