The sunlight spilled through the curtains, soft and unforgiving, and for a moment, I had no idea where I was. My head felt heavy, my body tangled in the warmth of the sheets—and him. The events of last night hit me all at once: the drinks, the bar, the confessions I had spilled, the way I had clung to him, and… the kiss. Everything. My chest tightened.
I froze, heart pounding, trying to process the reality of what had happened. What… what just happened?
He stirred slightly beside me, eyes still closed for a moment. When they opened, calm and steady, I felt my breath catch. His gaze was unreadable, quiet, yet something was grounding about it, like he could see straight through the mess inside me and still choose to stay.
"I… I'm sorry," I whispered, voice small and hoarse, afraid of breaking the fragile quiet. "I—"
He pressed a finger gently to my lips. "Don't apologize," he said softly. "You don't need to."
My stomach twisted. "But… last night… I…"
He leaned back slightly, taking a deep breath, and his voice was calm, controlled, but heavy with sincerity. "Listen, whatever this is… whatever happened last night, I'm not going anywhere. I'll… take responsibility."
My heart lurched. "Responsibility?" My voice barely made it past a whisper, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks.
"Yes," he said simply, eyes earnest. "I'll make sure you're safe. I'll make sure you're taken care of. You don't have to face everything alone anymore."
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Part of me wanted to laugh at how surreal it all felt. Part of me wanted to cry. My throat tightened, and a thousand questions surged at once—how, why, what does this mean—but I was too exhausted to articulate any of it.
"I… I don't even know your name," I admitted, voice trembling. "I barely know anything about you, and… and now…" My words faltered.
A faint smile touched his lips. "Names don't matter right now. Just… trust me. Let me handle the rest."
I wanted to argue, demand clarity, but all I could do was nod. There was something in him that felt safe, unshakable, like he could hold up the world and still have room to catch me if I fell.
"Okay," I whispered, almost breathless.
He rose from the bed and grabbed a small bag from the corner of the room. "We need to take care of something," he said quietly, with a subtle weight in his tone, like it was important but he didn't want to scare me.
I frowned, confusion twisting in my chest. "What… what do you mean?"
He offered me his hand. "Come with me. You'll understand soon enough."
I hesitated, then took his hand, feeling the solid warmth of him anchoring me. We stepped out into the quiet streets, the city still half-asleep. Early morning traffic hummed softly, and the distant chatter of a street vendor set a mundane, grounding backdrop. I kept glancing at him, trying to read him, trying to see if this was real or just another dream my exhausted brain was imagining.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice small, though curiosity nudged it forward.
"You'll see," he replied, voice calm, almost teasing. "Just follow me for now."
We walked in silence for a few blocks, the morning air crisp and faintly fragrant with coffee from a nearby café. My fingers brushed against his by accident, and I flinched, but he didn't pull away. He just kept walking, steady and patient, giving me space yet somehow reassuring me with the way he moved.
Eventually, we arrived at a small, local office, unremarkable from the outside but buzzing quietly inside with people going about their morning routines. My stomach lurched nervously.
"What… is this?" I whispered, clutching my bag tightly.
His gaze softened as he looked at me. "This is us taking responsibility. For last night. For everything. You won't have to worry about anyone trying to hurt you or take advantage of you anymore."
I blinked, confused. "I… I don't understand."
"Marriage certificate," he said simply, almost as if stating the obvious. "We make it official. I'll take care of you, legally and properly. No one can interfere."
My mind spun. "Marriage…?"
"Yes," he said softly, placing a reassuring hand over mine. The warmth of his touch made my chest ache in an unfamiliar, complicated way. "You don't have to say anything right now. Just trust me."
I swallowed, panic and disbelief swirling. "I… we can't—this is… we just met. I don't even know you fully…"
"Names and time don't matter right now," he said, tilting my chin gently with his fingers, meeting my eyes with unwavering intensity. "What matters is that I keep you safe. That's all you need to focus on."
I wanted to protest, to scream, to argue. But my voice caught. I nodded instead, trembling under the weight of his certainty.
The clerk called our names, and I felt my heart lurch:
"Mr. Ryan Sharton… and Miss Valerie Scully."
I froze. The name… sounded familiar, almost like I had heard it somewhere before, though I couldn't place it. A weird flutter rose in my chest. Why did it sound like I should know him?
He glanced at me, calm, unreadable, but his gaze held something like reassurance, as if sensing my thoughts without words. "See?" he said quietly. "You're safe now. You're mine. And I'll make sure no one ever hurts you again."
I blinked up at him, trying to process everything. Relief, fear, hope, and confusion all tangled together, leaving me breathless. The weight of last night, the registration, the new reality, pressed down on me, but there was a strange comfort in his unwavering presence.
"I… I don't know what to say," I admitted softly, barely above a whisper.
"You don't need to say anything," he said, a faint, calm smile brushing his lips. "Just… trust me. That's enough for now."
We filled out some paperwork, signed a few forms, and every small movement—holding pens, passing papers, guiding me through the office—made my pulse flutter. It was mundane, yet somehow monumental. This wasn't a storybook fantasy. This was real, and somehow… I was part of it.
"Are you sure this is… okay?" I asked quietly, watching him. "For me, for… us?"
He gave a small shrug, almost casual, but his eyes never left mine. "I'm sure," he said simply. "All you need to do is trust me. I'll handle the rest."
I nodded slowly, letting my hands relax in his. Somehow, despite the whirlwind of events, despite the disbelief still knotting my chest, I felt a tentative sense of relief.
After everything was done, he gently guided me out of the office. The city was awake now, sunlight bright on the streets, people rushing to their daily routines, unaware of the small, monumental change that had just happened to us. He didn't let go of my hand as we walked, and I realized I didn't want him to.
"Where… where are we going now?" I asked softly, curiosity and nerves threading through my voice.
He gave a small, teasing smirk. "Somewhere you can rest. You've had a long night… and a long morning."
I nodded, too tired to question, my head spinning from the whirlwind of emotions. Somehow, with him by my side, the world felt less sharp, less terrifying.
As we reached the car, I glanced at him. He looked… ordinary in a way that confused me. Calm, composed, yet impossibly strong. And yet, I didn't know him at all. Not fully.
But somehow… I trusted him.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I might finally be able to breathe.