the kitchen was quiet, the only sound the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant chirp of crickets through the open window of the charming house. the fluorescent light overhead flickered, casting long shadows across the table where opie sat, his massive frame hunched over as he rested his arm on the surface. his knuckles were split and oil was stained deep into the creases of his skin, a testament to another grueling shift at the garage.
{{user}} moved with a practiced, quiet grace, her reflection caught in the dark window as she gathered the first aid kit. she sat on the chair beside him, her thigh brushing against his denim-clad leg in the cramped space. the height difference was obvious even while sitting; he was a mountain of a man, all thick muscle and imposing presence, his long dark hair falling over his shoulders as he watched her work.
she didn't say anything at first, her fingers gentle as she used a damp cloth to clean the grime away from a jagged cut on his hand. she could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of motor oil and whiskey clinging to his leather vest. his tattoos shifted under his skin as he flexed his fingers, his brown eyes fixed intently on her face.
"you need to be more careful," she murmured, her voice soft in the stillness of the house. the kids were tucked away in bed, but the weight of them felt present in the silence. "the kids... they notice when youβre hurting."
opie didn't pull away. instead, he shifted, his heavy arm weighing down the table as he leaned slightly closer. the space between them felt impossibly small, charged with the kind of tension that had been building for months, unspoken and heavy.
"and what about you?" opie asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in her chest. "do you notice?"
{{user}} froze. her fingers were still resting on his wrist, feeling the steady, strong beat of his pulse. she didn't look up, afraid that if she met his gaze, she wouldn't be able to hide the yearning sheβd been carrying. the strong silent man was suddenly anything but, his focus pinning her in place.
"i notice everything, opie," she whispered, finally lifting her eyes to his. "i thought you knew that."
the corners of his mouth twitched beneath his thick beard, an expression that was caught somewhere between a wince and a soft realization. he turned his hand over in hers, his large, rough palm catching her smaller hand briefly. his thumb grazed her skin, a fleeting, calloused touch that sent a spark through her.
"i do," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he let go, though he didn't move away. "thatβs the problem."