The room was dark, the bed huge, the dense silence.

You were lying on your side, with your back to him, trying to sleep - in vain.

“You’re still awake,” he murmured, his voice deep.

“You too,” you replied, without turning around.

He approached.

Slowly.

The heat of his body sticking to yours.

The arm passed through his waist, hesitantly.

As if asking: “Can I?”

You held his hand.

“I’m scared,” he whispered. “Not from the wedding. But to really love someone. From you.”

You turned around.

He caressed his face.

“You’re mine. With fear and everything.”

The kiss was slower this time.

More intimate.

Deeper.

It wasn’t in a hurry.

It was connection.

It was delivery.

And that night, between sheets and secrets, you became more than allies.

They became two hearts at war... surrendering.