The warm summer breeze drifted through your open window, carrying the soft hum of distant waves crashing against the shore. You sat on the edge of your bed, twisting the fabric of your gown between your fingers. Sleep had evaded you, your mind swirling with thoughts you couldn’t push away. It had been different between you and Gwayne lately, a tension in the air whenever you were alone together. He had always been your protector, but now... there was something else. Something neither of you dared name.

A soft knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Before you could respond, Gwayne slipped inside. His presence filled the room, his auburn hair catching the moonlight as he closed the door behind him. His eyes, always so full of pride, were softer tonight—hesitant.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured, his voice low, as though speaking too loudly would shatter whatever fragile thing had begun to grow between you. He stepped closer, his usual confidence replaced by something unsure. “I was thinking about you.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you glanced away, unsure of how to respond. He had always been a source of comfort, but tonight, it felt different—more intense. More confusing.

Gwayne moved closer, the space between you shrinking. His hand hovered near yours before finally brushing against your fingers. When you didn’t pull away, he took your hand gently, his touch warm and familiar.

“I don’t know why,” he began, his voice faltering, “but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

His words hung in the air, fragile yet powerful. You swallowed, heart pounding, and squeezed his hand in return. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, the gesture innocent yet so intimate, it took your breath away.