The night stretched long after their kiss, the city quiet beneath the rain. Elias hadn't let go of her hand since, as though it was the only tether keeping him from drifting back into solitude.
They sat side by side on the worn leather couch in his apartment. Neither spoke at first—the silence felt different now, softer, no longer a wall but a blanket wrapping around them.
Amelia traced idle patterns on his palm with her fingertip. "You play piano like it's breathing… but you hold feelings like they're poison. Why?"
Elias's gaze was fixed on the floor. His jaw worked as if the words were caught in his throat. "Because music doesn't abandon you. People do."
Her heart ached at the confession. She turned to face him fully, tucking one leg beneath her. "I'm not people, Elias. I'm me. I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes finally lifted, storm-grey and vulnerable in a way she'd never seen. Slowly, he raised a hand, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. His fingers lingered against her skin, hesitant but yearning.
Amelia leaned closer, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. A question, not a demand. He answered by capturing her lips in his, slower this time—no desperation, just the careful unfolding of something new.
The kiss deepened, gentle turning into hungry, his arm winding around her waist to pull her closer. She let herself melt against him, her hands sliding up to rest against his chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, Amelia rested her forehead against his. "See? Not poison. Just… terrifying. And beautiful."
Elias gave a small, almost broken laugh—the sound of a man unaccustomed to joy. "You make it sound so simple."
"Because it is," she whispered, her thumb brushing his lips before kissing him again, softer, slower, like a promise.
Minutes slipped into hours as they talked in hushed tones, their words punctuated by lingering kisses, stolen touches, the warmth of two people learning the language of each other's hearts.
At some point, Amelia curled into his side, her head resting against his shoulder. Elias held her as though he'd never learned how, stiff at first, then loosening, his arm tightening around her waist like he didn't want to let go.
For the first time in years, Elias Volkner allowed himself to close his eyes with someone beside him.
And for the first time in forever, Amelia felt like she was exactly where she belonged.