For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
The night felt too quiet.
Like even the world didn't want to interrupt whatever this was.
Ethan's phone was back in his pocket.
Declined.
Just like that.
Simple.
Small.
But somehow… it felt bigger than everything he'd said tonight.
Because words are easy.
Anyone can talk.
But choosing?
Choosing is different.
And for the first time since all this started…
He chose me.
Still, my heart wouldn't relax.
It stayed guarded.
Because one right move doesn't erase ten confusing ones.
"You didn't have to cut the call," I said quietly.
"I wanted to," he replied.
"What if it was important?"
He shrugged. "Then she'll text."
So calm.
So sure.
Like it wasn't even a sacrifice.
And that scared me too.
Because now I didn't know what to believe.
Was he finally sure about me?
Or just scared to lose me?
And which one was worse?
The streetlight above us flickered, casting soft shadows on his face. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept properly in days.
Maybe I wasn't the only one losing my mind over this.
"I hate fighting with you," he said suddenly.
"We're not fighting."
"We are. Just quietly."
I almost smiled.
That was true.
We weren't shouting.
No insults.
No drama.
Just two people hurting softly.
Sometimes that's worse.
"I'm not good at this stuff," he continued. "Feelings. Explaining myself. I mess things up without meaning to."
"You think I'm good at it?" I asked.
He looked at me.
"No," he said, and we both laughed a little.
The tension cracked. Just a bit.
Wind blew past us, cold against my skin. I wrapped my arms around myself.
Immediately, he noticed.
"You're cold."
"I'm fine."
"You're shivering."
"I said I'm—"
Before I could finish, he pulled off his hoodie and draped it over my shoulders.
Warm.
Soft.
Smelled like him.
My chest tightened again.
Why does he do small things like this?
It's unfair.
It's easier to leave someone who treats you badly.
But someone who's gentle?
Someone who tries?
That's dangerous.
Because now leaving feels like you're breaking something good.
"Ethan," I said softly.
"Hmm?"
"What are we actually doing?"
He frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… what is this? Because we're stuck in the middle. Not strangers. Not together. Just… confused."
He looked up at the sky like the answer might be written there.
Then back at me.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Let's stop being scared and say it properly."
My heart started racing again.
"I like you," he said.
Simple.
No big speech.
No fancy lines.
Just truth.
"I like you more than I planned to. More than I'm comfortable with. When something happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When my phone rings, I hope it's you. When I don't see you, my day feels off."
My throat tightened.
"I don't feel that with Lena," he continued. "With her, it's just memories. With you, it's now. It's real. It's happening."
Tears burned my eyes again.
Stupid tears.
"I'm not perfect," he said. "I'm still figuring stuff out. But I want to figure it out with you. Not her. Not anyone else. You."
My brain whispered, Don't fall for words.
But my heart?
My heart was already halfway gone.
"And what if you change your mind?" I asked.
He stepped closer.
"So what if you do?" he replied softly.
I blinked. "What?"
"You act like you're the only one scared. What if you wake up one day and decide I'm too much? What if you leave me first?"
I never thought about that.
I always assumed I was the one at risk.
But maybe…
Maybe he was scared too.
"You think I'd do that?" I asked.
He gave a small smile. "You run a lot, Mira."
Okay.
That hurt a little because it was true.
I run before things break.
Before people leave.
Before love gets the chance to destroy me.
Self-defense.
But maybe…
Maybe I've been protecting myself so much that I never actually live.
"I just don't want to get hurt," I whispered.
"Me neither," he said. "But avoiding everything isn't living. It's just surviving."
Surviving.
That word hit deep.
Because that's exactly what I've been doing my whole life.
Surviving.
Not loving.
Not risking.
Just… surviving.
He reached for my hand slowly.
Like he was giving me time to pull away.
I didn't.
His fingers slipped into mine.
Warm.
Steady.
Safe.
And God…
Why does his hand fit mine so perfectly?
Like it's always been there waiting?
"Let's try," he said quietly.
"Try what?"
"Us. Properly. No half-half. No guessing. No running. If it crashes, it crashes. But at least we know we tried."
My heart felt like it was about to explode.
This is it.
The moment.
The line between safe and scary.
Between alone and together.
If I say yes, everything changes.
If I say no, I lose him.
And I wasn't sure which one terrified me more.
"Ethan…" I started.
Before I could finish—
His phone buzzed again.
Loud.
Sharp.
Breaking the moment like glass.
We both froze.
He didn't check it immediately.
But I saw it.
The name lighting up his screen.
Lena.
Again.
Second call.
Back to back.
Something about that felt wrong.
Not normal.
Not casual.
Urgent.
He frowned this time.
"That's weird," he muttered.
"Maybe you should pick up," I said quietly.
He hesitated.
Then answered.
"Hello?"
His expression changed instantly.
All the color drained from his face.
"What? … Where are you? … How bad is it?"
My stomach dropped.
Bad?
What bad?
He turned away, running a hand through his hair again, pacing.
"I'm coming," he said quickly. "Don't move. I'm coming right now."
The call ended.
He looked at me.
Torn.
Panicked.
Scared.
And suddenly…
I knew.
Whatever just happened…
Was about to test everything we just said.