I found her in the back room of the small studio, fingers nervously tapping against her jeans. She’d been avoiding eye contact with me all day, and I knew it was because of what I’d been asking her for weeks now.
“Alright, Izzy,” I said, pulling a chair up beside her. “We need to talk.”
She sighed, glancing at me with wary eyes. “Louis… we’ve talked about this.”
I leaned forward, crossing my arms. “One show. One. If you hate it, I’ll never ask you again. I promise.”
She shook her head, looking away. “It’s not that simple. It’s… what if I panic? What if I just stand there and freeze?”
“Then I’ll be right beside you. Look,” I said, reaching out to take her hand. “I can’t explain it, but I feel like there’s something powerful inside you, just waiting to be heard. And maybe, just maybe, this is your shot. But if you’re really not into it, I’ll drop it.”
She stared at our entwined hands for a moment, then back up at me. “You’ll drop it?”
“If you hate it,” I said, my voice soft. “Yes. We seal the deal now. One concert, and then I let it go. Deal?”
She hesitated, a million emotions flashing in her eyes, but finally she nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “Deal.”
---
The night of the concert, I could feel my heartbeat hammering against my chest as we stood backstage. The noise of the crowd was a dull roar beyond the curtain, and my palms felt clammy. I looked at Louis, who was calmly tuning his guitar, as if none of this phased him.
“What if I can’t do it?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Louis looked over at me, concern in his eyes. “Hey, breathe. Just breathe.”
But my chest felt tight, and no amount of breathing was helping. My vision blurred, and a cold sweat washed over me. “Louis, I… I can’t.”
He took my shoulders, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Izzy, look at me.” I met his eyes, grounding myself in his calm presence. “It’s just you and me up there. Don’t think about them. Just think about me. We’re back at the lake, playing like we always do.”
I nodded, taking a shaky breath. He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re stronger than you think. Trust me.”
I exhaled, focusing on the warmth of his hand. Somehow, he was pulling me back from the edge.
---
When we finally stepped onto the stage, the lights were so blinding I couldn’t see much of the crowd. I caught Isabelle’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before we started our first song. I could feel her nerves easing as we played, the melody weaving between us like we’d done this a thousand times before.
As we moved through the set, I could feel her opening up, letting go of her fears, and she was radiant—her voice raw and powerful. And I knew I had to make this moment count.
As we finished our second-to-last song, I nodded to the band for the special number we’d prepared. Isabelle looked at me, surprised. I’d kept it a secret, and I could tell she was wondering what was going on. I took the mic, my voice soft but steady as I began.
"You’re the quiet that keeps me sane,
The anchor in my hurricane,
In a world so loud and unforgiving,
You’re the reason I’m still living."
Her eyes met mine, wide with realization. I stepped closer, feeling the words pour from me, each line a confession, raw and vulnerable.
"So tell me, Isabelle, could this be?
Will you stand here, right next to me?
You’re my heart, my voice, my melody…
Will you be mine?"
The crowd was silent, holding their breath as I waited for her answer. She took a shaky breath, and then, with her voice trembling but resolute, she sang back.
"In your light, I’ve found my song,
In your arms, where I belong.
Yes, I’ll stand here by your side,
Forever yours, I won’t hide."
The words rang out, a quiet promise between us. I didn’t even realize I’d moved until our lips met, soft and gentle, sealing the words in front of everyone. The audience erupted in cheers, but all I could feel was her, and how everything about this moment felt right.
---
After the concert, his driver drove us back to his place, and the energy between us was charged, electric. As soon as we were through the door, his hands found my waist, and we were kissing, pressed up against the wall as if we couldn’t get close enough. "I..I'm ready"
“Izzy,” he murmured against my neck, his voice rough with emotion. “Are you sure?”
I looked into his eyes, feeling the answer within me. “Yes. I’m sure.”
With that, he lifted me, carrying me to his bedroom. Everything slowed, our movements gentle, unhurried. We explored each other, hands mapping familiar curves in a new way, every touch infused with emotion. When we came together, it felt like everything had led to this moment, a culmination of every note, every glance, every word we’d shared.
Afterward, I lay in his arms, my fingers running through his hair as his head rested against my chest. We lay in the quiet, basking in the intimacy of the moment.
---
I felt her fingers tracing through my hair, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath my ear, and for the first time in a long time, I felt… safe.
“My family,” I began, not sure where the words were coming from. “They were always distant, you know? No matter what I did, I was never… enough. So I started drowning that feeling with drugs and alcohol. Thought it would help. But then I met you.”
Her hand paused, her thumb brushing my forehead. “Louis… you are enough. You’re so much more than enough.”
Her words were gentle, like she could see straight into all the parts of me that hurt, all the scars I’d buried deep inside.
“Thank you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her collarbone.
She was quiet, and then, softly, she said, “My family’s no different. I’m the middle child, you know? The one no one noticed. I’ve spent my whole life taking care of people who… didn’t care to take care of me.”
I held her closer, understanding the weight of those words. She felt forgotten, just like I had. But in this moment, we’d found each other.
I took her hand gently, tracing a line over faint scars. “What happened here?” I asked softly.
Her breath hitched, and I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes. “Sometimes… it gets dark, Lou. Sometimes I can’t see a way out, and I hurt myself to remember I’m still here.”
I pressed my lips to her hand, a promise in that small act. “Izzy, you’re never going to be alone again. I’ll be here. Every time it gets dark, I’ll be right beside you. I swear it.”
She smiled, her eyes glassy, and leaned forward, kissing me softly. And in that kiss, I knew we were each other’s safe haven—two broken souls finding comfort and strength in each other’s arms.
