21 Tying the knot

I opened my eyes to the rise and fall of Joeress's chest beneath my cheek. My face instantly burned. Slowly, I tilted my head just enough to glimpse his sleeping expression—soft, unguarded, peaceful. The morning light caught the tiny moles on his face, and for some reason, they made my heart flutter.

But then he stirred.

A quiet groan escaped him as his brow furrowed in sleep. I quickly shut my eyes, pretending to be lost in dreams.

His arm shifted—lifting gently from around my waist—and I felt him sit up with a quiet stretch. Every nerve in my body screamed embarrassment. The thought of him realizing I'd been sleeping on his arm? Mortifying.

I heard him step off the bed. The door creaked open… then closed.

I exhaled, finally opening my eyes. The coast was clear.

Sitting up, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Noon sunlight filtered through the curtains. Outside the window, the world still wore its scars—broken rooftops, crumbling streets, echoes of the disaster still lingering.

After a quick rinse in the bathroom, I changed clothes and headed downstairs.

The memory of the dream tugged at the edges of my mind. That river. Lae's face. His eyes. Was it just a dream—or something more?

In the kitchen, Joeress leaned casually on the counter, a cup in hand, scrolling through his phone. He looked up, and his lips curved into a slow, familiar smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Just fine," I replied, keeping my tone casual.

"You wouldn't let go of me when you fell asleep," he said with a chuckle.

Heat rushed to my cheeks again. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," he said gently. "You needed the rest."

"Thanks."

He gave another soft laugh at my awkwardness.

"Where's Mom and Aunt Gaizell?" I asked.

"When I woke up, they were already gone."

"Did you try calling them?"

"I did. No answer from either of them."

I hummed thoughtfully, moving toward the fridge. "Where could they be?"

The fridge was oddly unchanged—eggs untouched, withered vegetables still resting in their spots. Like the rest of the house, it really had frozen in time.

"Have you eaten yet?" I asked.

"Not yet."

"You like eggs?"

"I'm not a picky eater."

I pulled out four eggs—two for us, two just in case mom and aunt Gaizell might return—and set them on the counter. As I reached for the pan, Joeress came to my side.

"Do you even know how to cook eggs?" he teased.

"I do actually," I replied, leaning into the sarcasm.

He laughed, and then, almost without thinking, rested a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up. His eyes met mine—cool and blue like the ocean, but warmer than I remembered. They searched my face like they were trying to read something unspoken.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he lifted his hand, gently tilting my chin toward him.

"We've known each other for a long time," he said, voice low. "And yeah, I know more about you now—but I want to know everything."

He leaned closer. I didn't move. Couldn't. Something in me didn't want to.

Our lips met—slow, careful, like a promise.

The world softened around us.

His hand found the small of my back, pulling me gently into him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine. Everything felt brighter, louder, like my heartbeat was echoing through the entire room.

His lips trailed down my neck, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down my spine. My hands moved instinctively—along his back, then to his waist, pulling him closer. Every touch felt like it was burning into memory, like the space between us had never truly existed until now.

He looked into my eyes again, his gaze searching, almost reverent. "You're sure?" he asked, voice quiet—barely above a whisper.

I nodded, my fingers tightening slightly around him.

He kissed me again—deeper this time. There was something different in it now, something honest and raw. No more teasing. No more pretending. Just us, fully open, fully seen.

Before I knew it—we were in my bedroom, the door quietly shut behind us. The room was dim, lit only by the golden streaks of sunlight spilling through the curtains. He leaned down, our foreheads touching, his breath warm against my skin.

His hands cradled my waist with a gentleness that contradicted the storm swirling inside me. We kissed again—slower this time, like we had all the time in the world. Like the world outside didn't exist.

When he pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his gaze softened. "If you're not okay with this, tell me," he whispered.

I didn't speak—I just nodded. Something about being near him made the world quiet. My heart was still loud, but for once, it wasn't from fear.

He smiled faintly and kissed my forehead, then my cheek, then my lips again. It wasn't hurried. It wasn't careless. Every movement felt like it asked a question, and I kept answering yes.

We didn't rush anything. Time slowed. It was more about the way our hands explored memory than skin, about the way he traced my face like he was memorizing it. The way I pressed closer, just to be held tighter.

Everything about that moment wasn't just about the physical—it was about being seen, truly seen, and still held like I was something precious.

When we finally lay beside each other, tangled in sheets and silence, he pulled me into his arms and rested his chin against my head.

"I've wanted this," he said softly, like a secret he wasn't sure he was allowed to speak. "Not just now. You. This."

I didn't know what to say, so I just held onto him tighter.

Outside, the wind passed softly against the windowpanes. Inside, the stillness held something warm—something like love.

Time passed with the two of us just lying there, tangled in each other's arms. The silence wasn't awkward—it was full of unspoken thoughts, gentle and warm. I didn't mind the quiet. It felt safe.

Joeress shifted slightly, brushing his fingers along my arm.

"This is a random question," he said softly. "But… how old are you?"

I turned to face him, resting my cheek against the pillow. "Twenty-four ."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're young."

"You think that's young?" I said, smirking. "How old are you then?"

"Twenty-five ," he replied with a playful grin.

I gave him a look. "You're not that much older than me."

He didn't answer with words this time. Instead, he pulled me gently into a hug, tucking me against his chest. I didn't resist. I didn't want to. Being in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A beat passed before he spoke again, his voice low and teasing near my ear.

"Ready for part two?"

I laughed quietly, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks again. I looked up at him, our faces inches apart, and smiled.

"Yeah," I whispered.

And just like that, we were lost in each other again.