Darren's Pov
I woke up with a strange warmth wrapped around me. That in itself was strange.
Sleep was never peaceful for me let alone warm. I'd always been plagued by nightmares, reminding me of everything I had lost. The pain in my scar was a constant presence, a cruel reminder of the past but this morning, something was different.
Something soft pressed against my chest and my body felt heavy.
When I finally looked down, I realized —
Isadora!
She was lying against me, her small frame curled into my side, her hand resting over my heart.
I froze.
What the —?
Why was she —?
How did —?
Suddenly and without warning, flashes from last night came rushing back — the pain, the weakness, her touch. The way she pulled herself onto my lap. The way she held me. The first ah she kissed my scar.
I swallowed hard, embarrassment washing over me.
I had let her do that to me.
I had let her see my vulnerable side.
But she was still here, still pressed against me, her breathing slow and steady, completely unaware of the war raging inside my head.
I ran a hand over my face, exhaling sharply.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
This… This wasn't us. Couldn't be.
Isadora didn't want me.
She couldn't want someone like me.
Yet,
She hadn't pushed me away. She hadn't looked at me with the disgust I had grown used to. Instead, she held me like I was something worth protecting. Like I was something worth caring for.
I tried to shift, to put distance between us, but her grip on my shirt tightened, and she murmured something in her sleep.
"Don't touch it… No, my cake…"
I stared.
Okay. What?
Did she just —
She repeated the same mumbled words and buried her face deeper in my chest.
A laugh bubbled up in my throat before I could stop it. When was the last time I laughed a genuine laugh?
Isadora pouted in her sleep, her lips pressed together in protest.
I shook my head in disbelief.
The great Isadora Giordano, feisty and sharp-witted, was fighting imaginary cake thieves in her dreams.
I had never seen something so ridiculous or so… adorable.
A few strands of her hair fell into her face, covering her eyes.
I hesitated for a second before I reached out, carefully brushing them away.
Her skin was soft beneath my fingertips. Too soft. Too delicate.
My fingers lingered on her skin for a second before I stiffened and shriveled back.
What the heck was I doing? If she woke up and found me touching her, she'd freak out.
I needed to get out of here. Needed to fix this mistake before it would ruin everything but the moment I tried to leave, a soft voice stopped me.
"Stay." It came as a whisper.
Isadora was awake.
"Darren, stay." she mumbled, her voice still groggy with sleep.
Without warning, my feet disobeyed me and I slid back into the bed.
And suddenly, we were staring at each other.
Her and me.
Close.
Too close and too close meant too dangerous.
"Good morning," she said with a whisper.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry.
What should I say?
She arched her brow and I forced myself to respond. It was a low murmur, barely audible but she smiled. She smiled the same smile she'd given me 2 years ago — a smile so warm that it could thaw even the coldest winter. It was a soft and sleepy smile but it made my heart flutter.
"Did you sleep well?" She asked.
Another question that came as a shock.
Slept well…
I didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Because no one had ever asked me that before. Not once in my entire life. People had asked if I was well or working but none had asked if I had slept well.
Because the truth was — I never really did.
Not really.
Sleep was a war I lost every night. I had always woken up with memories of my dark past, cold and all alone.
Until now.
Until her.
I hadn't realized I'd been smiling until Isadora tilted her head.
She didn't push for an answer. Instead, she simply moved.
I panicked.
Was she leaving?
What was she leaving?
'No. Don't go, Isadora.' I wanted to say but couldn't.
She was going to leave like the others. Or at least that's what I thought she'd do.
Isadora didn't leave. She didn't run. Instead, she walked around the bed and sat in front of me.
I stared at her, my heart pounding.
What was she planning to do?
Before I could process it, she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. A real hug.
I froze, my breath trapped in my throat.
My mind screamed at me to pull away, to protect myself but my body… my body melted.
The hug wasn't forced.
It wasn't out of pity.
It was her.
Isadora holding me, the handicapped man with a ruined face and a broken soul.
"You need this," She whispered against my chest. "And from now on, we're going to do this every morning. Do you hear? You're safe now, Darren."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. All I could do was sit here, first in her embrace.
For the first time in years, I was drowning in the cold darkness that gnawed at my life,
I was warm.
I wrapped my arms around her desperately. "Say that again."
Isadora whispered. "You're safe now, Darren."
A shaky breath escaped me and I buried my face in her neck.
Not because I wanted but because I needed her. Because I wanted to.
And for the first time ever, I didn't want to let go.