Levan's arms hovered above her shoulders, uncertain at first as if afraid she might vanish if he held too hard. He could not say he had not expected her to agree, but it was her willingness that caught him off guard.
It was almost unreal. Even if she cared for him… even if she liked him more than he dared to acknowledge, he had never imagined she would accept this so easily. Not something so close, so trusting. Not something that asked for her heart, not just her hand.
The air between them shifted, heavier now, charged with something unspoken. Every breath, every brush of fabric, felt amplified.
Levan felt his pulse quicken, sharp and insistent, the kind of rhythm he had only ever known in the middle of a fight. But this was not fear. It was not danger. The tightness in his chest, the rush in his veins… it was something else entirely. Something quieter and warmer. And that frightened him more than any blade could.
"You're sure?" he asked, voice rougher than he intended.
