Whispers after midnight

"How long are we gonna keep this up?" Romeo asks, his voice soft-too soft.

I look up, and he's already watching me. Not with that cocky half-smirk he wears like armor, but with something warmer. Something that makes my chest tighten. His eyes trace my face like he's memorising it, like he's afraid to blink and lose me.

"Keep what up?" I manage to say, even though we both know exactly what he means. My fingers twist in the hem of my sleeve, desperate for something to anchor me.

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, close enough that my body wants to lean in without thinking. He doesn't touch me-he never does first-but his presence alone feels like a hand on my skin.

"The whole pretending that there's nothing between us," he murmurs. "That the tension isn't there."

My throat goes dry. I want to deny it, to laugh it off, to shove all of this back where it's been hiding. But his gaze is steady, unwavering, like he's already made peace with wanting me.

"Rome-" I whisper, and it comes out like a plea.

He shakes his head slowly, jaw clenching like he's been holding this in for too long.
"I'm done fucking pretending, Lia." His voice drops, rough, honest. "When are you?"

My heart kicks hard against my ribs. I feel the pull-God, I feel it. The urge to close the distance, to give in, to stop running. But loving him means changing everything. It means risking everything. And I'm terrified of what happens after.

I look away, but he doesn't. He keeps staring at me like I'm something worth waiting for.

Started- 3/6/25
Finished-

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