This chapter is kinda bad but it's cute
Harlow was sprawled on the couch, her small frame curled up into a tight ball. She had been dozing there for the past hour, tucked under an old blanket. The TV flickered softly in the background, casting faint shadows on the walls, but she was far from peaceful. Her face twitched every few seconds, little gasps escaping her lips, her body trembling as if trying to escape something even in her sleep.
Diego walked past the couch on his way to the kitchen, intending to grab a drink before calling it a night. But something about the way Harlow was moving caught his attention. He turned, frowning, and stepped closer. Her breathing was quick, shallow, almost panicked, and her small fists were clenched tightly around the blanket. She whimpered in her sleep, soft but desperate.
Diego knelt beside the couch, his brows furrowed as he watched her. "Harlow?" he whispered, his voice gentle but firm. He touched her shoulder lightly, giving her a little shake. "Hey, wake up, kid."
But she didn't wake up. If anything, her breathing grew more frantic, her body jerking as if she were trying to run from something. A faint, desperate cry escaped her lips, her voice shaky and terrified. "No...no, please..."
Diego's stomach twisted. He didn't know what kind of nightmare she was having, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. "Harlow," he said again, louder this time, shaking her a little harder. "Come on, wake up!"
Her eyes flew open suddenly, wide and glassy, filled with fear. For a moment, she just stared at him, not really seeing him, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe.
"Harlow, it's me," Diego said softly, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "It's okay. You're okay."
Her gaze darted around the room, as if she was trying to make sense of where she was, but the fear didn't leave her eyes. They were still big and scared, her face pale and damp with sweat. Her lip trembled, and then, without warning, she launched herself into Diego's arms.
The sudden movement caught him off guard, and for a moment, he was stiff and awkward, his arms hovering unsurely in the air as she buried her face against his chest. Her small hands clung to the fabric of his shirt like he was the only solid thing in a world that was falling apart around her. She was shaking, her breath hitching in ragged sobs, and for a second, Diego didn't know what to do.
But then, slowly, he lowered his arms, wrapping them around her trembling frame. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his chest, could feel the warmth of her small body pressed tightly against his. The familiarity of her fear, of needing someone—anyone—to hold on to in moments like this hit him harder than he expected.
At first, the hug felt foreign to him, like something he didn't quite know how to navigate. He wasn't used to this kind of vulnerability, wasn't used to offering comfort like this. But then, something shifted. A spark—small, but undeniable—ignited in his chest, something he hadn't felt before. Not with anyone. It was terrifying in its intensity, but at the same time, it grounded him, rooted him to the moment in a way he hadn't expected.
Harlow's sobs slowly quieted, her breath evening out as she clung to him, her face still pressed against his chest. Diego tightened his hold on her, his awkwardness melting away. It wasn't just about calming her down anymore. It was something deeper, something that made his chest feel tight and warm all at once.
"You're okay," he murmured, his voice rough but soft. "I've got you. You're safe."
She sniffled, her tiny body still shaking but the worst of the fear had passed. "I...I thought you were..." Her voice was barely a whisper, muffled against his chest, but Diego could hear the tremor in it.
