The room had quieted, but the air still pulsed with everything unsaid — and everything finally said.
Kyle lay back on the bed, one arm wrapped around her waist like he couldn't let go even if he tried. Raye curled into him, cheek pressed against his chest, fingers trailing lazy circles on the back of his hand.
Outside, the world went on — cars honked distantly, a dog barked somewhere far off — but in here, it was just them. The kind of silence that felt full, not empty.
She traced the faint bruises on his knuckles.
"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly.
He didn't answer at first.
Just looked at their intertwined hands. "Not really," he murmured, his voice thick with fatigue. "I think the worst of it stopped the moment you said you loved me."
She smiled faintly, pressing her lips to the back of his hand.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner."
Kyle looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It was worth the wait."
He kissed her forehead gently, the kind of kiss that said you're home.
After a beat, Raye pushed herself up and straddled his lap, looking down at him with mock seriousness. "You, my sir, look like you've been steamrolled emotionally and physically."
He smirked, letting his hands rest lazily on her thighs. "Gee, thanks."
"I'm serious," she said, already sliding off to kneel beside him. "You need healing. Soul, body, and scalp."
He blinked. "Wait— scalp?"
Before he could protest, her fingers found their way into his hair, parting through the thick strands gently.
"Shh. Trust the process," she whispered, as if she were some ancient healing monk.
Kyle closed his eyes.
And then — magic.
Her fingers moved with slow, comforting pressure, scratching and stroking at the base of his skull. His breath hitched, then softened. She worked in slow, soothing circles, melting tension with every motion.
"Mmm," he groaned softly. "That feels… really good."
"Good," she whispered. "Now you'll know what you missed when you were mad at me."
He let out a small laugh, but it quickly faded into a long, peaceful sigh. His breathing slowed.
She paused for a moment, watching him — eyes closed, lips slightly parted, completely still now.
He'd fallen asleep.
Raye smiled down at him, her hands still gently in his hair. She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly.
"I love you," she whispered again, more to herself this time.
Then she pulled the blanket over both of them and lay beside him, curling into his warmth.
For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like she had to prove anything.
She was just... safe.
Morning tiptoed into the room in golden streaks through the curtains. It spilled across the bed like soft honey, kissing the floor, the scattered shirt , and the two people tangled beneath the sheets.
Raye was already awake — barely.
She was lying on her side, one hand resting gently on Kyle's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His arm was wrapped securely around her, like even in sleep, he wasn't letting her go.
His hair was a mess of soft black waves, his lashes dark against his skin, mouth slightly parted.
He looked peaceful.
Almost too peaceful for the menace he is, she thought, suppressing a smile.
She'd watched him sleep for a few minutes — not in a weird stalker way (okay, maybe a little), but in a "how is this the same guy who made my heart explode like a soda can?" kind of way.
She blinked sleepily.
Then suddenly—
"Are you enjoying the view, little creeper?"
His voice, low and teasing, cut through the silence. Raye jerked in surprise.
"Kyle!" she gasped, hitting his chest lightly. "You were awake?"
"Woke up a few minutes ago. I thought maybe I was dreaming, but then you started stroking my hand like a cat. That was my sign."
She groaned and buried her face in his chest. "Ugh. Embarrassing."
"No. Adorable," he murmured, sliding his fingers under her chin and tilting her face up.
Their eyes met, and for a second, neither said anything.
Then he whispered, "You stayed."
"I did," she said softly. "Were you… surprised?"
He nodded, brushing her hair away. "I don't know. Maybe. I've never… had anyone who stayed after I pushed them away."
Her expression softened. "I'm not going anywhere, Kyle."
His jaw clenched slightly — like her words were too good to believe. But then he kissed her forehead, slow and warm, like he was letting himself believe them anyway.
"And here I was thinking I scared you off," he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips again.
"You did," she said, poking his side. "But I'm stubborn."
"You're dangerous."
He leaned in, lips brushing hers in the lightest tease. But just before she could kiss him back, he pulled away a little.
She frowned. "Tease."
"Revenge," he said smugly, running a finger down her spine. "For cuddling me like I'm a therapy dog."
"Oh, shut up," she muttered.
He kissed her nose. Then her cheek.
Then her lips.
The kiss deepened, slowly, as his hand cupped her jaw and her fingers tangled in his messy hair. It wasn't desperate — it was soft, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.
When they finally broke apart, Raye whispered, "You kiss like you mean it."
Kyle smiled, tracing her lips with his thumb. "I do."
There was silence again, but it wasn't awkward. It was full — of feelings, of air too thick with everything that had passed between them.
"You know," he said, shifting so he lay on his back with her half on top of him, "I had the weirdest dream. You were giving me a head massage and then whispered you loved me."
She blushed, poking his chest. "That wasn't a dream."
He tilted his head, pretending to think. "So… you really do love me?"
"I really do," she said, her voice steady.
Kyle stared at her like she was the most important sentence in a poem. Then he kissed her again — longer, deeper, this time with a hand cradling the back of her head.
When they broke apart again, he whispered, "I think I might be in trouble."
"Why?" she giggled, lying fully on top of him now.
"Because I don't think I can sleep without you anymore."
She smiled against his neck. "Guess I'm stuck with you then."
He chuckled, rubbing her back gently. "Damn right you are."
They stayed like that a while — warm bodies tangled in sunlight, hearts finally beating the same rhythm.