Chapter 27: Breath Between Moments

The night carried a hush, a silence so deep it felt sacred. The wind moved gently through the garden, rustling the leaves, making the roses sway like they were whispering secrets to the stars. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called into the night a lonely sound, or maybe just a familiar one.

You sat on the wooden steps, barefoot, your fingers resting lightly against the edge of the deck. The moonlight traced every part of you, silver and soft, turning you into something unreal, something almost dreamlike. I watched, memorizing the way your hair moved with the wind, the way your shoulders rose and fell with each quiet breath.

I sat beside you, close enough to feel your warmth but not touching not yet. The moment stretched, fragile, waiting.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't look at me right away. Instead, you let your eyes wander over the garden, over the endless sky. "How some moments feel like they'll last forever," you murmured. "Like this one."

Something tightened in my chest, something I didn't have words for. "You want it to?"

You turned then, finally, and the look in your eyes sent a quiet shiver through me. "It already has."

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. The space between us felt thinner now, charged with something that neither of us needed to name. Slowly, you leaned in, just enough that I could hear the way your breath hitched, could see the way your lashes fluttered slightly.

I didn't move. Didn't rush it. Because some moments deserved to unfold in their own time.

And this this was one of them.