The Fragile Beginning

The fire had dwindled to embers, casting only a faint glow across the library, but neither Lena nor Damian moved to leave. The moment between them was delicate an unspoken agreement, a tentative step into something neither of them could fully name.

Damian's hand remained wrapped around Lena's, his thumb absently stroking the inside of her wrist. It was such a simple touch, yet it anchored her to him in a way that felt undeniably real.

"I don't think I've ever let myself want something just for me," he murmured after a long pause. His voice was quiet, thoughtful. "Everything I've done every decision I've made has always been about the company, the legacy, the expectations."

Lena tilted her head, studying the way the firelight flickered in his dark eyes. "And what do you want, Damian?"

His lips parted as if to answer, but no words came immediately. The silence stretched between them, not awkward, but weighty. Finally, he exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "I'm still figuring that out."

Lena smiled, shifting closer. "That's allowed, you know."

Damian let out a quiet chuckle, his fingers tightening around hers. "That's not how I was raised."

"No," she agreed, "but maybe it's time to rewrite some of the rules."

He studied her, his expression unreadable, but there was something softer in his gaze now something open. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's not," she admitted. "But nothing worth having ever is."

Damian released a slow breath, as if absorbing her words. Then, with careful deliberation, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. It was reverent, almost hesitant, as if he were allowing himself to believe in something new.

Lena's heart fluttered, but she didn't speak. She didn't need to.

Because for the first time, Damian wasn't just holding on to her.

He was letting her in.