Ava got to her apartment that evening just as the sky was melting into shades of soft purple and gold. She locked the door behind her and let out a long, slow breath, leaning against it as if letting the day finally sink in.
Today had changed everything. Alex had asked her out. Officially. Her stomach still fluttered at the memory, and a quiet smile spread across her face.
She kicked off her shoes and wandered into the living room, letting the calm of her apartment wrap around her. No parents calling, no distractions just the gentle hum of the city outside her window and the warmth of being alone for a moment.
Her phone buzzed. She picked it up and saw Alex's name light up the screen.
"Did you get in safely?" the message read.
She smiled, typing back quickly, Yes. I'm home.
Seconds later, his reply appeared: Good. I was worried.
Ava's fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed again. You don't have to worry anymore. I'm yours now, remember?
She buried her face in the pillow for a second, half embarrassed, half thrilled. His next message made her heart swell: I know. And I'm not taking that lightly.
Ava went into her bedroom and changed into a soft, oversized hoodie and comfy shorts. She tied her hair up loosely and looked at her reflection in the mirror, studying herself quietly. She felt… calm. Strong. Beautiful, not because of anyone else, but because she finally felt aligned with herself.
Later, she made a simple dinner and ate slowly, savoring the food as she replayed the day in her head the way Alex held her hand without hesitation, Gabrielle's over-the-top reaction, and the subtle glances from people who suddenly noticed her. She didn't feel the need to shrink herself or hide anymore.
Her phone rang again. Alex. She answered, smiling before she even spoke. He didn't rush to say anything. They talked about their day, random campus jokes, and light plans for the weekend. She laughed more freely than she had in weeks, realizing how safe and accepted she felt.
"I never imagined it would feel this calm to let someone in," she said softly.
"You don't lose yourself by letting someone walk beside you," he replied.
Those words echoed in her mind long after the call ended. Ava lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her hand rested lightly on her chest where her heart still raced, but it was steady in a way that felt right.
This wasn't chaos. It wasn't confusion. This was quiet. This was intentional. This was real.
As sleep claimed her, she realized love didn't always arrive in grand, dramatic gestures. Sometimes, it simply sat beside you, patient and unwavering, and stayed.