The city outside had gone quiet again, muted in the late hour. Streetlights flickered below like stars trapped on earth, casting soft glows on the windows of Ethan's apartment.
Lila stood by the window in one of his shirts—loose, just brushing the tops of her thighs—barefoot, thoughtful, her hair still slightly damp from the shower. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was waiting.
Ethan stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist. "You've been quiet," he said against her neck.
She leaned into him. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"You. Us."
His lips brushed her shoulder, the scent of clean linen and warmth surrounding them both. "Good things or bad things?"
Lila turned, eyes meeting his. "The kind of things that make you feel everything at once. Like falling, but knowing someone will catch you."
Ethan's hands found hers, fingers entwining. "Lila… you don't have to keep proving yourself. Not to me. Not anymore."
She stepped closer, eyes dark with emotion. "I'm not afraid of losing control with you."
His lips met hers with slow intensity—no rush, no pretense. Just truth. The kiss deepened, her hands tangling in his hair, his grip tightening on her hips. The world outside ceased to exist.
He lifted her gently, carrying her toward the bed as though she were both precious and dangerous. She looked up at him, pupils wide, voice low. "Make me forget everything but you."
And he did.
The hours that followed were not wild—they were honest. Touches that asked questions, kisses that held answers. Their bodies moved in rhythm, breaths caught and released like promises. There was a reverence to it, a sacredness in the way he memorized every part of her, in how she clung to him not in desperation but devotion.
Lila let go of every mask she'd worn in boardrooms and behind polished glass walls. With Ethan, she was undone—but not broken. She was free.
And Ethan, for all his strength and confidence, bared his soul to her. Every kiss was a confession. Every whispered word a vow.
After, they lay wrapped in tangled sheets and silence, the kind that says everything. She traced slow lines across his chest, and he gently played with her fingers.
"This," she whispered, "feels like the first time I can breathe."
Ethan turned to face her fully, brushing hair from her cheek. "It's always been you, Lila. From the very beginning. I didn't just fall in love with the woman who runs a company. I fell for you—the late-night thinker, the stubborn leader, the woman who takes up space and dares the world to shrink around her."
Her breath hitched. There were tears in her eyes, but they didn't fall. "I don't think I knew what love really felt like until now."
He kissed her again, slow and sure. "Then let's start from here."
They fell asleep holding each other—no more questions, no more walls. Only warmth. Only them.