'Is she serious right now?' Steve thought, his gaze locked on her with a focus that bordered on disbelief.
Her eyes had found his, unflinching and unguarded, and in that very moment, he caught the slight shift. Her gaze dipped—drifting down to his lips, then slowly up again, and he saw it.
Vulnerability clung to her like a fragile veil. It felt out of place, this intimacy, this moment, especially after the day they'd just survived. But still, Steve understood.
She just wanted to feel something else. Something other than the sharp edge of fear.
He didn't move. Not yet. He held still, giving her the space to decide without pressure. If she wanted this, she had to make it known.
And she did.
Fiona leaned in, slowly, subtly. Her movement was soft, cautious, yet certain. Her head tipped slightly, strands of her hair spilling forward like warm silk.
There was a tremble in the air between them as she paused again, but then she moved closer—finally closing the space.
