Sienna didn’t realize how quiet her apartment usually was—how much space there was inside it—until Liam stepped through the doorway.
He paused just past the threshold, water still dripping from his jacket, his eyes moving slowly across the small living room as if committing every detail to memory. Not intrusively. Not analytically. Just… taking it in.
“Do I need to take my shoes off?” he asked, voice low.
“You can,” she said. “But you don’t have to.”
He nodded and set them neatly by the door anyway.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The rain’s steady rhythm against the windows filled the silence, creating a soft boundary around them—like the world outside had faded, leaving only this warm, small space they now shared.
“I’ll make tea,” Sienna said quietly, turning toward the kitchen.
Liam followed, but kept a respectful distance, leaning lightly against the counter. His presence changed the apartment’s air, warming it, grounding it. She reached for two mugs—matching ones she rarely used—and filled the kettle.
“You okay?” he asked.
She wasn’t used to the question. Not in that tone. Soft, patient, without assuming anything.
“I think so,” she said. “Are you?”
He smiled—small, steady. “Yeah. I’m good.”
As the kettle warmed, they stood there in a silence that was no longer a barrier, but a place to breathe. Sienna felt the quiet differently now—not empty, but full of everything they hadn’t yet said.
When the kettle clicked, she jumped slightly. Liam noticed but didn’t comment. She poured the tea, hands steady enough, and pushed one of the mugs toward him.
“Thanks,” he said. “Smells good.”
“It’s just chamomile,” she murmured.
“Still good.”
They walked back to the living room. Sienna sat on the couch, leaving space beside her—but not too much. Liam hesitated only a moment before settling beside her. Close. A comfortable close.
Steam curled from their mugs. The rain pressed softly against the windows. The room felt smaller now, but safer.
After a while, Liam spoke.
“I was nervous.”
“About coming here?” she asked.
“About what it might mean,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to move too fast.”
Sienna looked down at her mug, fingers tracing the rim. “You didn’t.”
He exhaled, a long, quiet relief. “Good.”
Another pause—light, warm—settled around them.
Sienna’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I haven’t let someone in here for a long time.”
Liam turned slightly toward her. “Then I’ll be careful. You set the pace. I’ll follow.”
Her breath caught, that familiar mix of fear and comfort twisting together. But this time, comfort won.
She nodded. “Okay.”
A soft quiet fell again—gentle, like the moment before a candle flickers to life.
Inside the warmth, neither of them rushed to fill the silence.
For the first time, it felt like home could be something shared.
For a long moment, they simply sat there, letting the warmth settle. Sienna could feel the quiet moving through the room like a tide—gentle, steady, carrying their breaths in the same rhythm.
Liam set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned back slightly, turning toward her but not crowding her. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“What made you say yes? To tea. To… all of this.”
Sienna looked down at her hands, fingers laced loosely together. The truth rose slowly, like something that had been waiting for the right air to breathe.
“Because you didn’t push,” she said. “And you didn’t leave.”
He listened with his whole posture—open, patient, like he knew every word cost something.
“And,” she continued, her voice steadying, “because I didn’t want to keep pretending I wasn’t glad you were here.”
Liam’s expression softened—not bright, not overwhelming. Just full.
“I’m glad I’m here too.”
She felt that warmth again, sliding into the spaces she had long kept guarded.
Outside, the rain softened, turning into a delicate whisper against the windows. The room dimmed a little as the clouds thickened, but it didn’t feel heavy. The air felt almost protective.
Sienna shifted slightly on the couch, her knee brushing his.
Liam froze—not startled, but attentive—waiting for her reaction.
She didn’t pull away.
“If you ever need space,” he said quietly, “tell me. I mean it.”
“I know.”
“And if you want me closer…” His voice grew even softer. “Just let me know that too.”
Her breath caught, not with fear, but with the fragile spark of something new.
“I will.”
He nodded, like the simple promise meant more than anything. And maybe it did.
The clock on the wall ticked softly. Tea steam curled between them. The rain eased until it stopped entirely, leaving the quiet fuller than before.
Sienna glanced toward the window. “It’s rare for the rain to stop.”
Liam followed her gaze. “Maybe it’s giving us a moment.”
She looked back at him—really looked—and felt the stillness settle around them like a held breath.
“Liam,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“I’m still figuring things out.”
“I know.”
“But… I’m glad you’re here. Not just today.”
A slow smile touched his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded, letting the truth of that sink in. It didn’t frighten her the way she once thought it would. It felt… steady. Right.
The warmth in the room deepened, like a quiet hearth coming alive.
For the first time in a very long time, Sienna believed she might not have to weather everything alone.
Not anymore.
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