My heart is beating so loud and strong that I'm afraid she might hear it. It's so overwhelming and absurd that it far surpasses the sound of the guns popping in the movie still playing on the television.

Slowly, I turn my face towards her. Her eyes shine like stars, and she looks serious. More serious than usual. Then I glance down, just to make sure I'm not imagining it; that it's her fingers touching me.

They are, indeed.

It's a light touch, like bird feathers. She stays still for a moment longer, offering me support, and then quickly pulls away. I notice her chest rising up and down rapidly. Touching me must have triggered some sort of response.

As instructed by Dr. Solloman, I stand in front of her and start breathing deeply and slowly for her to mimic. In less than a minute, I notice she has already calmed down. She leans back on the couch, apparently relieved, and continues looking at me. Then she gives a weak smile, as if she's apologizing.

In reality, it's me who wants to apologize. For not being strong enough to endure my torment in silence, thus avoiding her feeling obligated to comfort me, even if only physically. She wasn't ready yet...

But her gesture was so beautiful that it couldn't go unanswered.

With a voice faltering due to emotion, I thanked her deeply for helping me. And I declared that she would never be alone. In the midst of the short speech, I accidentally shed a few tears myself. I wiped them away so she wouldn't feel compelled and get sick again.

I know that one day she would be able to touch me. She would be able to hold my hand, stroke my hair, and touch my face. And maybe... Just maybe...

I keep my thoughts under control, but my blush gives me away. She seems to know all the secrets of my soul effortlessly. I see it in her eyes, which delve deep into me.

I know it's foolish to try to resist. I just watch her back, peacefully surrendered. "Look," it's as if I'm saying. "It's all here."

I feel my fingers trembling with excitement. I want to feel the softness of her skin against mine. The smell of her neck, the taste of her lips. I want her, and it hits me with such force that I can almost feel the bones compressing inside my body. But it also seems obvious, as if all this time I had just been postponing the inevitable.

But I couldn't. Not yet.

So I swallowed hard. Her lips were quivering and slightly parted, as if she were dealing with an avalanche of emotions as strong as mine. I flash a confident smile and ask, softly:

"Shall we eat something?"

She barely nods in confirmation. Her eyes are totally fixated on mine, almost making me feel like prey.

"Let's go."

Then we rise slowly. My legs are slightly shaky, and I hope she doesn't notice. I start preparing a salad quickly, doing everything to divert my attention to the vegetables in front of me.

Those desires... Those thoughts should be kept on a very short leash. That was inconceivable. She was a fragile woman in need of help, not someone I could get involved with in that way. She was... Different. And it would be disrespectful of me to even consider that possibility.

Although I was sure that in that moment, she wanted it as much as I did. Was it my imagination? Was I jumping to conclusions?

There was no way to know.

Donovan would give me a huge scolding if he knew about it. So I decided not to tell him anything. Besides, there was no need for alarm, it was just a glance. And I managed to restrain myself in time before doing something terribly stupid.

Everything was fine. Everything would be fine.

That episode was just a little delusion of mine with no further consequences. I just needed to take the right path and follow the correct line of reasoning.