The night was cool, the streets washed in the glow of amber streetlamps. Amara walked beside Adrian in silence, the echo of their steps weaving through the empty road.
Neither spoke about what had happened in the café—the words he'd almost said, the ones she'd almost begged to hear. But the weight of them pressed into every moment now, thick and inescapable.
They reached the bus stop, where Amara usually parted ways with him. She turned, her voice carefully even. "Well… this is me."
Adrian nodded. "Yeah." But he didn't move. He just stood there, hands tucked in his pockets, watching her like he wasn't ready to let her go.
Amara shifted uncomfortably. "You don't have to wait with me."
"I know," he said softly. "But I want to."
Her heart betrayed her with a quick, traitorous skip. She looked away, focusing on the quiet street instead.
Then the bus roared past without stopping—out of service.
"Great," she muttered. "The universe hates me."
"Or maybe it's giving me more time," Adrian said, his voice low, almost teasing, but threaded with sincerity.
Amara opened her mouth to retort, but then it happened.
A car rushed by too close, splashing water from a puddle near her feet. Instinctively, Adrian reached out, his hand wrapping around hers to pull her out of the way.
The contact was electric.
His palm was warm, steady, strong against hers. Her breath caught, the world slowing until it was only that touch—simple, yet charged with everything unspoken between them.
She should have pulled away. She wanted to. But her hand stayed in his, betraying her again.
Neither moved. Neither spoke. Their eyes met, and for the first time, there was no banter, no armor, no walls. Just raw, unguarded truth in the silence.
Finally, Amara forced a shaky laugh, slipping her hand free. "You—you didn't have to…"
"I wanted to," Adrian cut in, his gaze burning into hers. His voice was softer now, barely a whisper. "I always want to."
Her chest tightened painfully, and she turned quickly, hugging her arms around herself. "Goodnight, Adrian."
She didn't wait for his reply, but even as she walked away, the ghost of his touch lingered.
And she knew—no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't be able to forget it.
Neither would he.