Unwritten Steps

Chapter 10: Dancing into the Unknown

The results of the audition wouldn't come for weeks, but Aurora felt lighter as she left the studio. She and Finn walked in comfortable silence, the city buzzing around them.

"Where are we going?" Aurora asked as Finn led her down a side street.

"You'll see," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

They ended up at the park, where a small clearing was lit by fairy lights strung between the trees. Finn pulled out his phone, scrolling through a playlist.

"Dance with me," he said, holding out his hand.

Aurora hesitated. "Here? Now?"

"Why not?" Finn grinned, his hand still outstretched.

With a laugh, Aurora took his hand, letting him spin her under the lights. The music was soft and slow, and for the first time in a long time, Aurora felt free.

As they danced, Finn pulled her closer, his expression turning serious. "You're going to make it, you know. You're going to be everything you've ever dreamed of."

Aurora swallowed hard, her heart swelling at his words. "What about you? What do you want?"

Finn looked away, his jaw tightening. "I want to stop running."

"You don't have to," Aurora said softly.

Finn turned back to her, his eyes filled with something she couldn't quite name. "Maybe not. Not if I have you."

They stopped dancing, standing under the lights, the world fading around them. For the first time, Aurora felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

But then her breath hitched, and the weight she thought she'd left behind came crashing down. She stepped back, her arms crossing over her chest, creating space between them.

"That's the scary part, isn't it?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Finn frowned. "What is?"

"This," Aurora said, gesturing between them. "Because every time something good happens in my life, something bad follows. It's like the universe has this rule: Aurora Carter doesn't get to be happy. I've learned not to trust it."

Finn stepped closer, his voice gentle. "Aurora—"

"It's always been like that," she said, cutting him off. Her words spilled out faster now, like she couldn't hold them back anymore. "Every time I think maybe, just maybe, I'll get to have something good... it gets taken away. My mom. My dad. Every home I've ever been in. And now you're here, and I—"

Her voice cracked, and she turned away, blinking back tears. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how exposed.

Finn reached out, his hand brushing her shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly.

Aurora shook her head. "You don't know that. People always say that, but they leave. Or something happens. It's just... easier not to get attached."

"Then don't get attached," Finn said, his voice steady but kind. "Just let me be here. No promises, no guarantees. Just... here."

Aurora turned back to him, her eyes searching his. She wanted to believe him, to believe that maybe, this time, it would be different. But the fear still lingered, curling around her chest like a shadow she couldn't shake.

For a moment, they stood in silence. Then Finn gently cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Let's do it right, Aurora. Whatever this is. No rushing, no running. Just us, figuring it out one step at a time."

Aurora blinked, tears threatening to spill over. The way he said it—steady, sincere—made her want to believe him.

She let herself take his hand again, holding it tightly as she nodded. "Okay. Let's do it right."

The words felt heavy and light all at once, like a promise she was finally ready to make. Because maybe, just maybe, letting herself hope was the bravest thing she could do.