The room was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the rain outside.
Ethan carried Aria gently in his arms, her head resting against his chest, her breathing light and steady. She looked so peaceful — nothing like the fierce, proud girl who used to tease him in the school halls.
He laid her carefully on the bed, tucking the blanket under her chin.
For a moment, he just stood there, watching her.
Her hair was still a little damp, a few strands falling across her face.
And the oversized shirt he had given her — his shirt — hung loosely around her shoulders, barely reaching her thighs. It swallowed her whole, yet somehow made her look impossibly small… and beautiful.
Ethan felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest.
He shook his head, chuckling softly at himself. She's trouble, he thought. Beautiful trouble.
He turned quietly, trying not to wake her, but just as he reached for the door handle, he felt something — a soft tug on his wrist.
Her voice came, sleepy and fragile.
"Don't go…"
He froze, turning back. Her eyes were half-closed, her hand still gripping his wrist gently.
"Please… stay with me," she whispered. "I don't want you to go."
He stared at her, speechless. The same girl who once made fun of his silence now clung to him like she was afraid he'd vanish.
He sighed softly, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. "You're impossible," he murmured, his tone warm, teasing.
Still, he didn't pull away.
He sat down beside her, brushing a strand of wet hair away from her face.
She turned slightly in her sleep, curling toward him, and her fingers brushed against his arm as if searching for warmth.
Ethan couldn't help but smile. "You really are something else," he whispered.
He looked at her and chuckled softly. Slowly, she turned, and her hands slipped away from his.
He stood there for a moment, watching her sleep again, her breathing steady, her face calm — so different from the girl who used to glare at him in the school hallway.
The moonlight spilled gently through the window, touching her skin, and that's when he noticed it — his shirt on her. It was too big, hanging loose off one shoulder, the sleeves swallowing her arms. Yet somehow, she looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.
He couldn't stop staring. The way her hair framed her face, the way her lips parted slightly as she sighed in her sleep… she looked like something he'd only dream about.
Ethan smiled to himself.
"She looks better in my shirt than I ever did," he whispered under his breath, shaking his head with a small laugh.
He leaned against the doorframe for a second, watching her — torn between leaving and staying just a little longer.
But his body chose for him; his feet refused to move.
Quietly, he walked back to her side, brushed a strand of hair off her face, and whispered,
"You're impossible, Aria…"
Then, unable to resist, he sat down beside her bed. The rain outside had stopped, leaving the world silent.
He looked at her one last time and smiled — not the smile of a boy who'd been bullied or hurt, but of someone who finally found peace in the presence of the one who once caused him pain.
And just before he closed his eyes, his hand brushed lightly against hers.
She stirred for a moment, her fingers curling around his instinctively.
He froze, heart racing, then relaxed, letting her hold on.
For the first time in years, Ethan slept with a quiet heart — and beside him, Aria dreamed of nothing but warmth.