“I know,” he finally says, his voice low, serene. “And you don't have to be afraid. Not me, at least.”
The warmth in his gaze is a balm to my soul, but my chest remains tight. It's not him I fear. It's myself. What this means? What a feeling so deep for someone can do to me.
Dylan is not like Ryan. He's not an illusion or an empty promise. He's been there, patient, constant, with a love that demands nothing in return. And that's what terrifies me the most. Because if I allow myself to fall completely, if I give him everything I'm still guarding inside, what happens if one day he's no longer there?
I feel his hand move up my arm, a gentle touch, akin to a caress.
“You don't have to give me answers now,” he continues. “I just want you to know that I'm here. That you can count on me and m
