Kiss & Tell ( Asa and Chiquita)

Chapter 19: The Weight of Words

Asa's POV

Everything that just happened lingers in my memory long. It's the most terrifying and comforting feeling all at once. A whirlwind of emotions that I can't quite name, yet feel as deeply as I feel my own heartbeat.

Chiquita's gaze holds me, soft yet unwavering, as if she knows exactly what's passing through my mind. The air around us is electric, charged with everything we've danced around for weeks — and I don't want to fight it.

I lean in again, not because I need more, but because somehow, I can't seem to help myself. Her lips meet mine with the same tenderness, like the space between us, all those walls I thought I had to keep up, have finally melted away. For once, I'm not thinking about control. I'm not thinking about the future, or the things that might tear us apart.

I'm here.

And so is she.

Chiquita pulls back just a fraction, her breath mingling with mine. Her eyes search mine, and I feel like she's seeing me in a way I never let anyone see me before.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. There's an uncertainty there — a tenderness that's almost fragile.

Am I okay?

I close my eyes, taking a slow, steadying breath. It's the first time in days that I feel like I have the right to simply be. No expectations. No pressures. Just... us.

"Yeah," I whisper back, the word feeling more like a promise than a response.

The silence that follows is thick, but not uncomfortable. It's a silence that carries weight, as if both of us are holding our breath, waiting for something — waiting for me to take the final step.

"I never thought I'd be here," I say softly, my voice faltering just a little. The words feel foreign on my tongue, but once they're out, I can't seem to take them back. "Not with you."

Chiquita's eyes soften, her smile gentle. "Why not?"

I swallow, glancing down at my hands, feeling exposed in a way I don't usually allow myself. "I've spent my life making sure I never had to feel... anything. I built walls so high I couldn't even see over them." I let out a shaky laugh. "And now... here you are, breaking them down without even trying."

Chiquita steps closer, closing the space between us. Her hands find mine, gently wrapping around them, as if to anchor me in this moment.

"You don't have to fight anymore, Asa," she murmurs. Her words settle over me like a balm, soothing and calming. "You don't have to hide. I'm not going anywhere."

I raise my eyes to meet hers. I feel the weight of her gaze, but it's not heavy. It's warm, like the sun on a crisp morning.

"I've never been good at trusting people," I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "I didn't think I could trust you."

Chiquita gives me a soft smile, her thumb tracing the back of my hand. "I get it. Trust is hard. But I'm not asking you to do anything you don't want to do. I'm just here. And I'm not going anywhere."

For a moment, I just breathe in the warmth of her words, the security they offer. There's no pressure, no rush. Just the steady rhythm of our breaths, of hearts beating in time.

"I'm scared," I say, the words raw, vulnerable in a way I didn't know I could be.

Chiquita's grip on my hands tightens, but not in a way that feels possessive. It's more like she's offering me a lifeline, a reassurance that I'm not alone in this.

"I know. And that's okay," she replies softly. "Fear's a part of this. But so is love. And I know that love is here, even if you can't quite see it yet."

My breath catches in my throat. Love.

The word feels like an anchor, a place I didn't expect to ever find.

"I don't know if I can love you," I whisper, the vulnerability in my voice more than I've ever allowed myself to show. "I don't know what that means for me... for us."

Chiquita steps even closer, her hand gently lifting my chin so that my eyes meet hers. There's no judgment in her gaze, only understanding. "That's okay. I'm not asking you to figure it all out right now. I just need you to know one thing."

I wait, breathless, as she leans in closer, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispers, "I love you, Asa."

Her words fall over me, soft and sure, like a promise. And in that moment, the weight of everything — of my fears, my doubts, my walls — seems to fall away.

I'm not sure when it happened. I'm not sure when I stopped holding on so tightly. But what I do know is this: I'm ready. Ready to feel this. Ready to be here, with her.

I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, to see the honesty there, the tenderness. And then I say the words that have been caught in my throat for far too long.

"I like you ."

The words feel strange at first, almost foreign.

Chiquita's smile is radiant, her eyes sparkling with something I can't quite name — but I know it's love. Uncomplicated and true.

She pulls me close, wrapping her arms around me, and I allow myself to sink into the warmth of her embrace.

For once, I don't need to understand everything. I don't need to figure it all out. I just need to be here, in this moment, with her.

And that, somehow, is enough.