Marcus was drawn to Elena’s quick wit and the way she tilted her head when she was thinking. Elena loved the way Marcus actually listened—not just waiting for his turn to speak, but absorbing her words.
She braced for the shift—the confusion, the polite exit, or the sudden coldness she’d experienced before. Instead, Marcus took her hand. His grip was steady.
They found beauty in the mundane: cooking burnt pasta in Elena’s tiny kitchen, arguing over which movie to stream, and long walks where they planned a future that felt increasingly tangible.