Dawn
We didn't rush anything.
After the kiss, we just stayed close, foreheads touching, breathing the same air like we were afraid the moment might shatter if we moved too fast. Earl's hand rested against my chest, fingers curled lightly in my shirt like he was anchoring himself there.
I felt him shift first.
Not pulling away, leaning in.
His thumb brushed hesitantly along my collarbone, tentative, curious, like he was asking without using words. When he looked up at me, there was nervousness in his eyes, but also something else. Want. Trust.
My heart thudded hard.
"Earl," I said quietly, catching his hand before it could wander further. Not stopping him just slowing us down. "Hey. Look at me."
He doesn't even know how much I craved for this even without trying it.
"You okay?" I asked. "We don't have to do anything. We really don't."
He swallowed, then nodded. "I know. I just… want to feel close. With you. Like.... really close."
The honesty in his voice made my chest beat like drums.
"Tell me if anything feels too much," I said. "Or if you change your mind. Promise."
"I promise," he replied, just as softly.
That was the only reason I let myself relax.
I kissed him again, slower this time, letting it deepen naturally. Nothing rushed. Nothing demanding. Just warmth and intention. Earl responded shyly at first, then more surely, like he was learning the rhythm of us as we went.
His hand slid up to my shoulder, then around my neck, touch still careful, still innocent. I could feel how tense he was beneath it, how much this mattered to him.
Every time his breathing hitched, I pulled back just enough to check in.
"You good?"
"Still okay?"
"Tell me to stop if you want."
Every time, he nodded. Every time, he leaned back in.
We lay side by side, legs tangled, his head resting against my chest again while my fingers traced slow, reassuring patterns along his arm, his back, the curve of his shoulder. The intimacy wasn't about urgency it was about closeness. About being chosen. About being held without expectation.
"I like this," he murmured. "It makes everything feel quieter."
I pressed a kiss to his hair. "Me too."
His hand found mine, fingers lacing together, squeezing gently like he needed the confirmation that I was real. That I wasn't going anywhere.
I stayed aware of every breath, every shift. Made sure he was leading as much as I was. That nothing crossed a line he wasn't ready for.
This wasn't about taking.
It was about sharing.
Eventually, his movements slowed, exhaustion catching up with him again. He curled closer, practically melting into my side, safe and spent in the softest way.
I wrapped my arms around him, holding him like I'd promised I would.
No matter what came next, no matter how long the road ahead still was, I knew one thing with absolute certainty:
This... us.... was built on care.
And that mattered more than anything else.