you’re lying in bed with her, legs tangled beneath the sheets, some old lantern casting a warm flicker over the walls. it’s quiet. not the uneasy kind, but the kind that only settles in when you feel safe. her arm’s under your head, fingers brushing absently against your shoulder like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

abby’s not looking at you. she’s staring up at the ceiling, jaw tight, like she’s thinking hard about something.

you shift a little, propping your chin on her chest. “you good?”

“yeah,” she says, but it sounds automatic. distant.

you frown. “abby…”

she finally glances down at you, her expression softening. “i’m fine. just... thinking.”

“about what?”

her throat bobs. she doesn’t answer right away. then:

“you scare the shit out of me.”

you blink. “uh. thanks?”

she huffs a laugh under her breath. “not like that.”

you wait.

“i’ve lost a lot of people,” she says, quieter now. “some of them… i couldn’t do anything about. others, i pushed away. told myself i didn’t need them. made it easier to keep going.”

your fingers brush her side gently. “you don’t have to tell me this if you’re not ready.”

“i am,” she says quickly. like she doesn’t want to lose the nerve. “it’s just… i keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. for you to realize i’m not worth sticking around for. or that i’ll fuck it up. like i always do.”

you sit up slightly, looking her in the eye. “abby—”

“but i still want this,” she interrupts, voice a little unsteady. “with you. even if it scares me. even if it makes everything harder.”

her hand slides up your back, settling at the nape of your neck.

“i love you.”

it’s quiet. soft. but firm. like she’s been carrying it for a while and finally couldn’t keep it in anymore.