I sit on the living room floor, dragging a feather toy across the carpet while Lily pounces on it with far more enthusiasm than her tiny body should be capable of.
She's adorable.
Absolutely, ridiculously adorable.
And playing with her is a welcome distraction from the fact that Naomi left an hour ago and I'm already missing her.
Which is pathetic.
We've known each other for like two days.
I shouldn't be this attached already.
Lily catches the feather and wrestles with it triumphantly, her tiny growls making me smile despite my spiraling thoughts.
"You're a fierce little hunter, aren't you?" I say, and she meows in agreement.
I let her "win" the toy and she drags it under the couch like it's her prize.
Then she emerges, looks at me expectantly, and meows again.
"More? Already?"
Another meow. Very insistent.
I laugh and retrieve the toy, starting the game over.
But even as I play with Lily, my mind keeps drifting.
To Naomi.
To the way she smiled at me this morning.
To the way she accidentally hugged me when she was half-asleep, and how warm she felt, and how I didn't want her to let go.
To the note I left on her nightstand and the black rose I drew.
God, what was I thinking with that?
It was too much. Too revealing.
Showing her a piece of myself I usually keep hidden.
But I wanted her to see it. Wanted her to know there's more to me than the sweet, quiet girl who makes breakfast and says thank you.
Wanted her to see the darker parts. The intense parts. The parts I've had to hide for so long.
Lily pounces on the toy again, this time catching it mid-air with impressive coordination.
"Nice," I praise, and she preens.
I check my phone.
Still another hour at least before Naomi gets back from the celestial gathering.
An hour of sitting here trying not to think about her and failing miserably.
I've got it bad.
Really bad.
And it's terrifying because what if she doesn't feel the same way?
What if I'm reading too much into friendly gestures?
What if the fact that she hugged me this morning meant nothing and I'm just projecting my own feelings?
What if—
My phone buzzes.
A text from Naomi.
Naomi: Ceremony is done! Heading back soon. Did Lily destroy anything?
I smile despite myself and text back.
Me: She's been perfect. Currently terrorizing a feather toy.
Naomi: That's my girl. See you soon!
Me: See you.
My heart does that stupid flip again.
I need to get myself under control before she gets back.
Need to act normal and friendly and definitely not like I've been obsessing over her for the past hour.
Lily abandons the toy and climbs into my lap, purring loudly.
"At least you like me," I tell her, scratching behind her ears.
She headbutts my hand, demanding more attention, and I comply.
"What do you think?" I ask her quietly. "Should I tell her how I feel? Or is that too fast? We've only known each other two days. That's crazy, right?"
Lily just purrs louder, clearly not interested in my romantic dilemmas.
"You're no help."
I think about the dark romance books I read.
The heroines in those stories are always so brave. So willing to take risks, to go after what they want.
They don't sit around overthinking and worrying about timing.
They just... act.
But those are fictional characters in fictional situations.
This is real life.
Real feelings.
Real consequences if I mess this up.
I could lose the first real friend I've made in years.
Could make things awkward in the apartment.
Could ruin the one safe space I have.
But I could also... not lose those things.
Could gain something more.
Could take the risk and have it pay off.
The thought is terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.
Lily shifts in my lap, getting more comfortable, and I continue petting her on autopilot.
The truth is, I've been hiding for so long.
Hiding from my father. Hiding my true self. Hiding my feelings. Hiding everything that makes me me because showing those parts has always meant danger.
But Naomi makes me want to stop hiding.
Makes me want to be brave.
Makes me want to show her all the parts of myself I usually keep locked away.
The intense parts. The possessive parts. The parts that want to claim and protect and own in the way the heroes in my books do.
The thought makes heat flood through me.
What would it be like to stop hiding that side of myself?
To let Naomi see that I'm not just sweet and soft and grateful?
That I can be intense and possessive and demanding when I want something?
When I want someone?
My phone buzzes again.
Naomi: Downstairs! Be up in a sec!
My heart starts racing.
She's back.
This is it.
I can tell her how I feel, or I can keep hiding and hope the feelings go away on their own.
Except they're not going away.
If anything, they're getting stronger.
I hear her key in the lock and quickly set Lily down, standing up and trying to look casual.
The door opens and Naomi walks in, looking slightly windswept but beautiful.
She's always beautiful.
"Hi!" she says brightly. "Miss me?"
More than I should.
"How was the gathering?" I ask instead.
"Amazing. Cecil got his celestial name—Elyrian the Healer. There was this whole ceremony and everyone welcomed him officially and it was really sweet." She drops her bag by the door and moves into the living room. "How was Lily?"
"Perfect. We played, she napped, we played more. She's been great."
Lily meows from the couch as if confirming this.
Naomi scoops her up, pressing a kiss to her head. "Did you have fun with Sarah? Did you behave?"
Lily purrs in response.
And I stand there, watching Naomi with the kitten, and something in me just... breaks.
Not breaks in a bad way.
Breaks open.
Like I've been holding something back for so long and I physically can't do it anymore.
"Naomi," I say, my voice coming out steadier than I feel.
She looks up, still holding Lily. "Yeah?"
"I need to tell you something."
Her expression shifts—curiosity mixed with concern. "Okay. What's up?"
I take a breath.
Be brave, I tell myself. Be like the characters in your books. Take the risk.
"I like you."
Silence.
Naomi's eyes widen, Lily still cradled in her arms.
"I know it's only been two days," I continue, the words tumbling out now that I've started. "And I know that's probably too fast and you probably just see me as a friend and that's fine, I can handle that, but I couldn't keep it to myself anymore because every time I look at you I feel—"
"Sarah," Naomi interrupts, carefully setting Lily down on the couch.
Oh god. She's going to let me down gently. She's going to say she's flattered but—
"I like you too," Naomi says quietly.
I freeze. "What?"
"I like you too," she repeats, moving closer. "I've been trying not to because you just escaped your father and you need stability, not your roommate developing feelings. But I can't help it. I like you, Sarah. A lot."
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it.
"Really?"
"Really." She's close now, close enough that I can see the sincerity in her eyes. "And I don't just like the sweet, quiet version of you that you show the world. I want to see all of you. The dark parts. The intense parts. The parts you hide."
Her hand comes up to cup my face, and the gentleness of the gesture combined with her words does something to me.
She wants to see all of me.
All the parts I've been hiding.
The intensity I keep locked away.
The possessiveness I read about in books but never let myself express.
She wants that.
Something shifts in me—something fundamental and powerful.
All the control I've been maintaining, all the softness I've been performing, all the hiding—
It cracks.
I move forward quickly, backing Naomi up until her back hits the wall.
Her eyes widen in surprise, but there's no fear there. Just shock and something that looks a lot like excitement.
I brace one hand on the wall beside her head, the other finding her waist.
"You should be more careful with your words," I whisper, my voice lower than usual, rougher.
And then I kiss her.
It's nothing like the soft, tentative first kiss I imagined.
It's intense. Claiming. Possessive.
Everything I've been holding back pouring out all at once.
Naomi makes a surprised sound against my mouth, but then she's kissing me back just as intensely, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer.
I press her more firmly against the wall, deepening the kiss, and she gasps.
The sound goes straight through me.
I've never let myself be like this before. Never let this side of myself show.
But with Naomi, it feels right. Feels safe to be intense and demanding and possessive.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
Naomi's eyes are dark, her lips swollen, her hair messed up from where my hand tangled in it.
She looks thoroughly kissed.
And I did that.
"You should be more careful with your words," I repeat in a whisper, my forehead resting against hers.
Naomi laughs—breathless but genuine.
"I'm not regretting anything," she says, her hands still gripping my shirt. "Not as long as it's you."
The words settle over me like a brand.
Not as long as it's you.
She wants this. Wants me. The real me, not the carefully constructed version I show everyone else.
I pull back slightly to look at her properly.
"I need you to understand something," I say seriously. "If we do this—if we're really doing this—I'm not going to be soft and sweet all the time. I'm intense. I'm possessive. I want—" I stop, trying to find the right words. "I want to be the one claiming, not the one being claimed. And I don't know if you want that or if you were expecting something different—"
"Sarah," Naomi interrupts, her hand finding my face now. "I read the same books you do. I saw your room. I know there's more to you than the innocent face you show the world. And I want all of it. The soft parts and the intense parts. I want you exactly as you are."
"You might not know what you're asking for," I warn.
"Then show me," she challenges. "Stop hiding and show me who you really are."
The invitation is clear.
Permission to stop performing. To stop hiding. To just... be myself.
The thought is terrifying and liberating in equal measure.
"Are you sure?" I ask one more time. "Because once we start this, there's no going back. I'm not good at casual. If we do this, I'm all in. Completely. And I'll expect the same from you."
Naomi's smile is soft but her eyes are intense.
"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Sarah?"
My heart stutters. "I—yes. I am. If you want—"
"Yes," she interrupts. "Absolutely yes. I want to be with you. Officially. No hiding, no pretending it's just friendship. I want all of it."
Relief and joy and want flood through me all at once.
"You're sure?" I press. "Really sure? Because I meant what I said. I'm intense. Possessive. I'll want to know where you are and who you're with and—"
"Sarah." Naomi's hands frame my face, making sure I'm looking at her. "I won't regret being with the person I love."
Love.
She said love.
"You—what?"
"I know it's only been two days," Naomi says, echoing my earlier words. "But I'm falling for you. Hard. And I don't want to hide that. Don't want to pretend I feel less than I do."
I kiss her again—softer this time but no less claiming.
She loves me.
Or she's falling for me, which is close enough.
And she wants me to stop hiding.
Wants to see all of me, even the parts I usually keep locked away.
When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers again.
"I'm falling for you too," I admit quietly. "Have been since the first night. Since you made me feel welcome and safe and seen."
"Good," Naomi murmurs. "Then we're on the same page."
"Completely."
We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other, and I feel something settle in my chest.
Peace.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel at peace.
I have a safe place to live.
I have a girlfriend who wants all of me, not just the palatable parts.
I have a future that looks bright instead of terrifying.
A soft meow breaks the moment.
We both look down to find Lily sitting at our feet, looking up at us with what I swear is judgment in her eyes.
"I think she's wondering why we're still standing in the hallway," Naomi says, amused.
"Fair point."
I step back, letting Naomi move away from the wall, but I keep hold of her hand.
Mine.
The thought is possessive and claiming and exactly the kind of thing I've never let myself think before.
But Naomi just laces our fingers together and smiles at me, and I think maybe it's okay.
Maybe I can be possessive and intense and all the things I've been hiding.
As long as it's with her.
We settle on the couch together—much closer than before, Naomi leaning against me, my arm around her shoulders.
Lily climbs into Naomi's lap and starts purring, clearly approving of this new arrangement.
"So," Naomi says after a while. "Girlfriends."
"Girlfriends," I confirm, testing out the word.
It feels right.
"We should probably tell Cecil when he picks up Lily," Naomi adds. "He'll be happy for us."
"You think?"
"Definitely. He's a romantic. He'll love it."
I think about Cecil—how he helped me escape, how he's been nothing but kind, how he trusted Naomi to take care of me.
"I'm glad he introduced us," I say quietly.
"Me too." Naomi presses a kiss to my shoulder. "Best thing that ever happened to me."
We sit in comfortable silence, and I think about what comes next.
Dating Naomi. Being girlfriends. Building something real together.
It's terrifying because I've never done this before.
Never let myself be this open, this vulnerable, this honest about who I am.
But with Naomi, it feels possible.
More than possible.
It feels right.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"For what?"
"For wanting all of me. Even the parts that aren't easy."
Naomi shifts to look at me properly. "Especially those parts. They're what make you *you.* And I love you, Sarah. All of you."
There's that word again. Love.
"I love you too," I whisper, meaning it completely.
She kisses me—soft and sweet and perfect.
And surrounded by warmth and safety and acceptance, I finally let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I deserve this.
Deserve happiness.
Deserve love.
Deserve someone who sees all of me and wants me anyway.
Deserve Naomi.
And I'm going to spend every day proving that she deserves me too.