The night air wrapped around them as they stepped out of Ian's backyard. It was cooler now. Crisp and still, the kind of evening where the world seemed to hush, like it knew something meaningful had happened.
Jake opened the truck door for Hriva without saying a word. She slid in, fingers clutching the edge of the blanket he'd draped over her shoulders earlier. The scent of grilled food, fresh grass, and him still lingered on her skin.
He climbed in after her, started the engine, and for a few moments, they just sat there, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights, neither of them rushing to break the silence.
Jake glanced at her, his hand resting on the gearshift. "You sure you're okay?"
Hriva turned to him slowly, her lips curved into something small but deeply real. "I'm more than okay."
He nodded, eyes lingering on her face, as if memorizing how she looked in this exact moment. Then, without a word, his hand reached for hers. Their fingers laced together naturally. Familiar. Like they belonged there.
The drive was quiet.
But not empty.
The windows were slightly down, letting in a gentle breeze that tousled her hair and brought in the distant sound of crickets. City lights blurred past, glowing like soft stars trapped in motion. The only sound inside the truck was a low playlist humming in the background, acoustic, slow, heartfelt. The kind of music that didn't interrupt the silence but gave it weight.
Hriva leaned her head against the seat, eyes half-closed, still wrapped in the warmth of his hoodie and the weight of his words.
I love you.
She felt the echo of it again, curling through her chest like heat in winter.
"I wasn't planning to say it tonight," Jake said suddenly, eyes on the road. "It just… happened."
Hriva looked over at him. "Because of the way I flipped the burgers?"
He laughed, the sound low and beautiful in the dark. "That was definitely part of it."
She smiled, turning her body to face him more fully. "So… what made it spill out?"
Jake thought for a moment. His fingers tightened slightly around hers.
"Watching you laugh with my family. Hearing you tease Ian. Seeing you fit into that part of my life like you'd always been there. It wasn't just a moment. It felt like a glimpse into something real. Something long-term."
He glanced at her. "And I realized… I didn't want to wait for the perfect time to say it. I didn't want to hold back just because we haven't hit some arbitrary timeline."
Hriva was quiet, letting his words settle. Letting them wrap around her heart.
"Good," she said softly.
Jake arched a brow. "Good?"
"Yeah." She looked out the window, a small, wistful smile on her lips. "Because I was starting to feel it too. But I didn't want to be the first one to say it."
"I beat you to it," he murmured.
"You did."
They fell quiet again.
But this time, it was a comfortable silence, the kind that forms between people who no longer need to fill every space with sound.
When they reached her apartment, Jake turned off the engine and didn't move. Hriva unbuckled her seatbelt and looked at him.
"You want to come up?" she asked.
Jake hesitated for only a moment. Not because he didn't want to. But because he knew what that invitation meant now, after everything they'd said and felt.
"Yeah," he said. "I do."
Inside her apartment, the world felt smaller. Cozier. Her space was scented with lavender and vanilla, dimly lit with a few lamps casting warm pools of light across the floor. She kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen, grabbing two glasses of water without asking if he wanted one. He followed her silently, hands in his pockets, watching her move like she'd always lived in the corners of his thoughts.
When she handed him the glass, their fingers brushed, and something passed between them again.
Not heat. Not exactly.
More like gravity.
Jake set the glass down on the counter and stepped closer. Hriva leaned back against the edge, her heart thudding a little faster as he placed one hand beside her and the other on her waist.
"You meant it?" she asked quietly. "What you said?"
He looked her in the eyes. "Every word."
Hriva's breath shook slightly. "Me too."
She reached up and gently tugged at the front of his jacket. He didn't resist. Their lips met in a kiss that wasn't rushed or playful. It was slow. Deep. The kind of kiss that asks for nothing and gives everything. Her hands slid up into his hair. His fingers splayed at her hips, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them.
And still, they didn't move toward the bedroom.
They just stood there. In the quiet. In the glow of a soft apartment. In the aftermath of love spoken aloud.
When they finally pulled apart, Hriva rested her forehead against his.
"Stay tonight," she whispered.
Jake nodded, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I wasn't planning to leave."
And that night, they didn't need passion to feel close.
They needed proximity. They needed quiet.
They needed each other.
They curled beneath her covers like they were made to fit there. Hriva's back against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her middle. His breath steady against her neck. Her fingers lightly tangled with his.
And as sleep pulled them under, one truth remained in the space between their bodies.
They weren't just falling anymore.
They had already landed.
Together.