The silence in the room wrapped around her like a second skin. The city lights flickered against the walls, but her eyes were on Leon—his hand warm in hers, his presence grounding her like an anchor in a sea of memories.
"I had a nightmare," she murmured, voice so soft it almost dissolved in the air between them.
Leon's eyes met hers, still and dark. "About that night?"
She nodded. Her throat felt tight. "It's like… I was back there. In the woods. Daniel was telling me we had no choice. That we had to bury him. And I—" Her voice cracked. "I remember how the earth smelled. How my hands wouldn't stop shaking."
Leon didn't speak. He pulled her gently into his arms, holding her close. She melted against his chest, breathing him in. Warmth. Safety. Strength.
"You're not there anymore," he said against her hair. "You're here. With me."
Her lips brushed his throat. Soft. Barely there. He tensed, not from discomfort—but restraint.
"Why are you always calm?" she whispered. "Even when I'm breaking apart?"
He pulled back slightly to meet her eyes. "Because I have something to protect now."
Their mouths were close—so close she could feel his breath.
"Leon…"
She didn't finish the thought. She didn't need to.
He kissed her.
It wasn't rushed or rough—it was slow, deep, and full of things they hadn't said aloud. She rose on her knees, fingers threading into his hair, as he pulled her into his lap.
Her nightshirt slipped off one shoulder, and his hand followed the path of her bare skin, warm and reverent. She trembled—not from fear this time, but from the tenderness she hadn't known she craved.
He laid her gently back against the couch cushions, never breaking the kiss. His fingers explored the edge of her nightshirt, pausing for her approval. She nodded, breathless, and he continued, lips trailing down her throat to her collarbone, slow as melting wax.
Their movements were unhurried, every touch deliberate. His name left her lips in a whisper as he explored the curve of her waist, the softness of her thighs. She felt seen. Worshipped. Loved in a way that undid all the cold memories Daniel had left behind.
Clothes melted away. Skin met skin.
He held her like she was something sacred. And she let him, surrendering the last of her fears to the man who had seen her shadows and still stayed.
They moved together as if they'd always been meant to.
And when it was over, when they lay tangled in silence, he kissed the hollow between her collarbones and whispered, "You never have to be afraid again. I've got you, Ayla."
And this time—she believed him.