His hand is on my wrist.
Gentle but firm. Stopping me from leaving, from walking away like I've done so many times before when things get too real, too intense.
"Don't go," he says again, and there's something raw in his voice that makes me hesitate.
"Give me one reason to stay."
"Because I don't want you to."
"That's not a reason. That's just you being selfish."
"Maybe I am selfish. Maybe I've been lying to myself thinking I was protecting you when really I was just protecting myself." His thumb traces small circles on the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse is hammering against my skin.
I turn to face him fully, and the vulnerability in his expression catches me off guard. "From what?"
"From this. From feeling something real. From wanting someone so much it scares me." His voice drops lower, more intimate. "From needing someone in a way I swore I'd never let myself need anyone again."
