Chapter 19 — Near the Edge
The night was quiet, only the soft hum of the city below their apartment. Mara stood by the window, staring out at the glimmering lights, lost in thought. Milo leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with that careful intensity that made her heart ache.
"You've been quiet again," he said softly, stepping closer.
"I'm… thinking," she murmured, eyes still on the lights. "About the past. About… everything."
Milo didn't move too fast. He never did. He simply stood there, steady and patient, letting her feel the space between them shrink at her own pace. "You don't have to face it alone," he said. "I'm here. Always."
Mara swallowed hard. The words warmed her, but her chest tightened. She wanted to run, wanted to hide, wanted to pretend none of this mattered. And yet, she couldn't. Milo's presence had a gravity she couldn't resist.
A sudden noise outside the window — a car horn, a shout — made Mara flinch. Milo reacted instantly, moving in front of her, body slightly shielding hers. Her heart raced in a new way, a strange combination of fear and awareness, and for the first time, she realized how much she wanted him to protect her.
"You don't have to be scared," he murmured, hand brushing hers lightly. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Mara's breath hitched. The touch, so simple, so grounding, sent shivers up her spine. She turned to face him, eyes wide, heart hammering. Milo's gaze was intense, filled with unspoken emotion.
"Why are you like this?" she whispered. "So patient… so careful… so… everything I didn't think I could trust."
He smiled faintly, almost shy, though it didn't reach the edges of the intensity in his eyes. "Because I care. About you. And I want to earn your trust. Every day, if I have to."
Mara's lips parted. The words struck a chord deep inside her, breaking something she hadn't even realized was holding her back. Her hand trembled as it brushed against his. He didn't pull away. Instead, he closed the small distance between them, letting their fingers intertwine naturally.
"I…" she began, voice barely audible, but Milo leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching hers.
"Shh," he whispered, soft and urgent. "You don't have to say anything. Just… feel this. Feel us."
The closeness was electric, pulling at something primal in her chest. Mara's pulse quickened. She wanted to lean in, to let herself trust fully, but the fear lingered — the fear of loss, of heartbreak, of letting someone see her entirely.
Milo sensed it. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers grazing her cheek, slow and deliberate. "I'll wait," he murmured. "I'll wait as long as you need."
Mara's breath hitched again, heart thundering. And then, for a fleeting, suspended moment, she let herself imagine — just for a heartbeat — what it would feel like to lean in, to close the space between them completely.
Their eyes locked. Milo's lips hovered close, a whisper away. Mara's hand tightened around his, a tremor of want and fear coursing through her. The world around them blurred. Time slowed.
And in that near-perfect moment, they both understood: the line between friendship, protection, and something deeper was thinner than ever. One small movement could cross it forever.
But neither of them moved — yet.
Instead, they simply stayed there, chest to chest, hands intertwined, hearts racing, feeling the spark that had been building for weeks finally ignite.
The rain outside had stopped, leaving the city quiet, glimmering, and full of possibility. And inside, Mara and Milo stood near the edge — the edge of something new, something thrilling, something terrifying… and utterly, undeniably theirs.