Delia and Eric entered their small, rustic room, leaving the rainy world behind. The sound of the heavy downpour drumming on the roof created a cozy, intimate atmosphere, trapping them together in the warm, candlelit space. After taking turns bathing and changing into dry, simple nightwear, a comfortable but charged silence settled between them.
Eric sat on the edge of the far side of the bed, his expression soft and a little hesitant. He looked at Delia, who was standing awkwardly by the small washbasin drying her hair.
"I promise," he began, his voice a low, sincere murmur that was barely audible over the sound of the rain. "I will just hold your hand while we sleep. Nothing else. I'm still having trouble sleeping at night, please."
Delia looked at him, at the genuine, vulnerable offer in his eyes. A part of her, a part she had long kept locked away, yearned to accept, to feel that simple comfort but her logical side took over. "Fine then," she replied, her voice quiet.
