[LINA]
Dylan hovered above me, breathless, eyes searching mine. But he didn't move further—he waited.
For me.
And that's when I realized . . .
He had never stopped protecting me. Even now, he waited for permission. Even now, he gave me the choice.
But the part of me that had ached for him for years—the part I buried under anger and confusion and loneliness—answered before I could speak.
My hand reached up and touched his cheek.
"You should've told me sooner," I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart. "Because I think . . . I've known. Deep down, I always knew. But I needed you to recognize your feelings for me first."
Dylan turned his face slightly, the edge of his jaw tight, but I caught the faintest blush coloring his ears. It was so rare to see him vulnerable like this, and it made my chest ache.
