Cavin's POV
The room was cloaked in silence, save for the sound of her soft, uneven breaths against my chest. Eliza lay curled in my arms, her bare skin warm against mine. Her tears had dried, but I could still feel the tension in her body. She hadn't said much after I revealed the truth about her father, and that was fine. She needed time to process.
But even in her quiet, I could feel her resolve wavering. The way she leaned into me, even as she fought her feelings—made my chest tighten with a strange mixture of satisfaction and longing.
"Cavin?" She called, and I hummed.
"I want proof," she whispered softly. I hummed and cupped her cheeks, I whispered, "I have them, until then be with me. Trust me, once. Will you?" I asked. To which she nodded.
I gently stroked her back, my fingers trailing lazily along her spine. "You're thinking too much, princess," I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"I can't help it," she whispered, her voice hoarse.