Finding light in the darkest places—through love-Chapter 104 – Almost Saying It

The next evening, Evelyn found herself standing outside Adrian's apartment, heart hammering like it hadn't since the very first day they met.

She stared at the familiar door for a second longer than necessary, shifting the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she was reading too much into the way they'd held hands last night, the way Adrian had looked at her afterward like she was the only thing that mattered—

The door opened before she could even knock.

Adrian leaned casually against the frame, wearing a worn hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled like he'd just run a hand through it.

He smiled, but there was something softer underneath it tonight—something that made Evelyn's chest ache in the best, worst way.

"You're early," he said.

"You're psychic," she countered, stepping inside.

The apartment smelled faintly like coffee and the lemon-scented cleaner Adrian always used. It was warm, a little messy, and lived-in.

It felt like him.

He closed the door behind her and gestured toward the couch. "I made tea. Figured you might want some."

"Thanks," she said, settling down.

He brought over two mugs, setting one carefully in front of her. His thumb brushed against hers for a fraction of a second—barely there—but Evelyn still felt the spark of it.

They sipped in comfortable silence for a moment.

Outside, rain drizzled softly against the windows, turning the world hazy and gray.

Inside, everything felt too sharp, too close.

Evelyn set her mug down carefully. "Adrian?"

He looked up immediately, attentive. "Yeah?"

"I've been thinking," she started, then hesitated. She fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater, gathering the courage she wasn't sure she had.

Adrian waited. Patient. Steady.

"I know we haven't..." she tried again, then huffed out a breath. "I mean, we haven't talked about—about what's happening between us. Not really."

Adrian nodded once, slowly. Encouraging. "No, we haven't."

"But something is happening," Evelyn said, finally letting the words out. Her cheeks burned, but she forced herself to meet his eyes.

"I just—I don't want to mess it up by pretending it's not."

For a heartbeat, Adrian just stared at her.

Then he set his mug down, his hand brushing so close to hers on the table that it almost touched.

"You're not messing anything up," he said, voice low and sure.

Evelyn swallowed hard. "I just... I guess I need to know if you're feeling it too. If we're—if this isn't just me being stupid."

Adrian's laugh was soft, almost disbelieving. He shook his head, smiling in that way that always made her feel like the most important person in the world.

"Evelyn," he said, voice rougher now. "You're the farthest thing from stupid."

He shifted slightly, turning more fully toward her.

"I feel it," he said. "Every time you look at me like you don't know how much you mean. Every time you reach for me without thinking about it."

He hesitated, just for a second. "I feel it when I'm around you. And when I'm not."

The words wrapped around her like a blanket—heavy, warm, real.

Evelyn blinked hard, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself steady.

"I'm scared," she admitted in a whisper. "It feels... big. Bigger than I know what to do with."

Adrian's hand found hers, finally, fingers lacing through in a slow, deliberate movement.

"I'm scared too," he said quietly. "But I'm not going anywhere."

They sat there for a moment, hands joined on the table between them, the rain filling the silence around them.

It wasn't a confession yet. Not the big words.

But it was everything that mattered right now—an acknowledgment, a beginning.

Evelyn squeezed his hand gently. "Me neither."

Adrian smiled then—a real, wide, crinkling-his-eyes smile—and leaned his forehead against hers briefly.

They stayed like that for a long breath, just existing together, letting the world outside blur into insignificance.

Later, they moved to the couch, still not letting go of each other entirely.

Adrian turned on some mindless show neither of them watched. Evelyn curled into the corner, her legs tucked under her, Adrian's arm resting casually along the back of the couch—close enough that if she leaned even slightly, she'd brush against him.

Eventually, she did.

And Adrian, without hesitation, slid his arm down and around her shoulders, pulling her in.

It wasn't possessive. It wasn't urgent.

It was easy.

Like they'd done it a hundred times before.

Evelyn let herself relax against him, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.

His heartbeat was steady, a quiet reassurance against the chaos still swirling inside her.

At one point, Adrian shifted slightly and whispered, "You're safe here, you know."

Evelyn smiled against his hoodie, feeling the words settle somewhere deep inside her.

"I know," she whispered back.

And for the first time in a long, long time, she believed it.