Expect The Unexpected (H-Town)

I Still Choose You

Hakeem

*3 Months Later*

The house was quiet in that late-night way where everything felt closer.

Kaedi sat beside me on the couch, knees tucked under her, sweater slipping off one shoulder like she'd forgotten it was there. The lamp across the room cast a soft glow, turning her skin warm and familiar. She wasn't talking much—just leaning into me, her head resting against my chest like it belonged there.

I wrapped an arm around her slowly, giving her time to move away if she wanted.

She didn't.

Instead, she sighed—soft, content—and shifted closer, her fingers tracing idle patterns against my stomach through my shirt. Not teasing. Just present.

"You okay?" I murmured.

She nodded against me. "Yeah. I just... feel safe."

That word hit deeper than anything physical ever could.

I tilted her chin up gently so I could see her face. Her eyes were calm, open—no walls, no uncertainty. Just trust.

"You don't ever have to rush with me," I told her quietly. "Not feelings. Not moments. Nothing."

She smiled at that, slow and real, and leaned in first.

The kiss wasn't urgent. It was warm. Intentional. Her lips moved against mine like she was confirming something she already knew. I slid my hand to the small of her back, holding her there, grounding us both.

When we pulled apart, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

"This feels different," she whispered.

"It's supposed to," I said. "We're choosing it."

I brushed my thumb along her jaw, memorizing the way she leaned into my touch without hesitation. She curled closer, her leg draped across mine, heartbeat steady against my side.

No rush.
No pressure.
Just closeness.

I rested my chin on top of her head, breathing her in, knowing this wasn't about heat—it was about connection.

And for the first time in a long time, intimacy didn't feel like something I was chasing.

It felt like something I was trusted with.

It didn't start slow.

That was the problem.

One second we were talking—quiet, low voices, standing too close in the hallway—and the next my hands was on her waist, firm, like I was grounding myself as much as her.

One moment she was pressed against my chest, the next my mouth was tracing slow, deliberate heat along her jaw, her neck, lingering just long enough to make her breath stutter.

I'm sure she felt the shift in me when she reacted—the way my grip tightened slightly, like restraint was no longer effortless.

"Kaedi," I breathed, low and warning. "If we keep going..."

She tilted her head back, giving me access without saying a word.

That was answer enough.

My mouth followed, unhurried but sure, every touch intentional. Her fingers slid under the hem of my shirt, skin warm, solid, real beneath her hands. I inhaled sharply at that, forehead dropping to her shoulder like I was grounding himself before I lost control completely.

"You're sure?" I asked again—quieter now, closer.

"Yes," She whispered.

That was when my composure finally cracked.

I kissed her deeply—no restraint left in it—pulling her closer, bodies fitting together like they already knew where to land.

The light disappeared.

And everything else faded right along with it.