Chapter 38: Whispers in the Dark

The night deepened, wrapping us in its quiet embrace, but neither of us moved. The stars continued their silent vigil, and the wind carried the scent of roses through the garden.

"I used to be afraid of the dark," you admitted softly, your voice almost lost in the hush of the night.

I glanced down at you, your head still resting against my shoulder, your fingers still tangled with mine. "Not anymore?"

You shook your head, your hair brushing against my arm. "No. Not with you."

Something in my chest tightened at that.

It wasn't about the dark, not really. It was about trust. About feeling safe, not just in a place, but with a person. And knowing that, even in the blackest night, you weren't alone.

I shifted slightly, just enough to lift my free hand and trace my fingers along the back of yours, slow and deliberate. "You'll never have to be."

You didn't say anything, but the way you squeezed my hand told me you heard it that you understood.

And in the quiet of the night, beneath a sky that had watched over countless stories before ours, we sat there, lost in the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled.