After that night, everything felt more dangerous.
Not because Elias changed-but because Amara did.
She started noticing the way his hand hovered near her back when crossing busy streets. The way he remembered small things-how she liked her tea, the songs that made her nostalgic, the meetings she dreaded.
She noticed how her body leaned toward him before her mind could catch up.
Wanting him scared her more than loneliness ever had.
One evening, as they stood outside her building, snow crunching beneath their boots, Elias hesitated.
"Amara," he said. "There's something I should tell you."
Her heart jumped. Here it is, she thought. The moment everything breaks.
"I care about you," he said. "More than a friend. And I don't expect anything from you-not now, not ever. I just don't want to hide it."
The honesty of it stole her breath.
"I can't," she said immediately.
"I know," he replied gently.
That kindness-that patience-was what finally pushed her over the edge.
She stepped back. "You don't understand. I am not easy to love. I come with ghosts and panic and nights where I can't breathe because I remember too much."
"I understand more than you think," he said quietly.
She shook her head. "I will hurt you."
Elias met her gaze, unflinching. "And loving you might hurt me. But that doesn't make it wrong."
Her chest ached. "Please don't wait for me."
"I'm not waiting," he said. "I'm choosing."
She turned away before he could see her cry.
