The hospital lights buzzed faintly as Selene wiped down her station after a long night shift. Two grueling days in a row left her tired, but the thought of Antonio waiting for her kept a small spark alive. He had been swamped with business meetings all day, yet somehow, every night, he found his way to her doorstep. Just the sight of his familiar smile eased the weight pressing on her shoulders.
"Hey," he'd say softly, pulling her into a quick, comforting embrace. Those stolen moments were small but precious—her brief sanctuary amid the chaos.
Meanwhile, across town, Ayra's boutique hummed with a different kind of energy. Rolls of fabric, half-finished designs, and the scent of fresh jasmine filled the air. Her hands were busy, but her eyes always flicked to the door, hoping for Eliot's familiar silhouette. He came whenever his schedule allowed, sometimes bringing coffee, sometimes just his quiet presence, grounding her amidst the creative whirlwind.
Their laughter and shared silences made the little shop feel less like work and more like home.
Life moved fast, but somehow, in between shifts, meetings, and stitches, they all found their way back to each other—bit by bit, night by night.
Selene's POV
The moment I stepped out of the hospital, the cold kissed my cheeks and exhaustion sank deep into my bones. Two days on shift. My body was weary, my mind foggy—but my heart? It beat a little faster the second I saw him.
Antonio leaned against his car, the streetlamp behind him casting a golden halo over his figure. His eyes caught mine instantly, and that familiar warmth bloomed in my chest.
"You look tired," he said gently, brushing a stray strand from my face as I approached.
"I am," I whispered, leaning into his hand for a second too long. "But seeing you makes it easier."
He opened the door for me without a word, letting silence be our comfort on the ride. But halfway through, his hand found mine.
"I hate that we don't get enough time," he murmured.
I turned to him. "But we find time. That's what matters."
The look in his eyes shifted—something deeper, something fierce. "You matter, Selene. More than this chaos, more than the meetings I sit through all day. You're what grounds me."
It hit me harder than I expected. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe it was just him, always knowing how to reach the softest part of me.
"Don't say things like that while driving," I teased, voice barely steady. "I might cry."
He chuckled softly. "Then let me park."
A few heartbeats later, we pulled up in front of Ayra's boutique. It was supposed to be a quick stop, a casual visit. But the moment we stepped inside, laughter rang through the air—and we paused.
Ayra sat on the counter, feet dangling, laughing as Eliot adjusted a mannequin's scarf with exaggerated flair.
"Oh, come on, it's artistic," he defended, grinning.
"You're going to scare off customers, Mr. Experimental Elegance," Ayra said, flicking a loose ribbon at him.
They looked up just then—Ayra mid-giggle, Eliot with his hand still awkwardly frozen near the mannequin's face.
"Well, well," Ayra said with a dramatic hand to her chest. "Look who finally decided to crawl out of her hospital shift."
I rolled my eyes fondly. "It's called saving lives. What did you do? Battle satin?"
Eliot laughed. "She battled fabric and my lack of taste. I lost."
Antonio slid beside me, his arm brushing mine. "Looks like we caught you both in a moment."
Ayra narrowed her eyes, grinning. "You mean like your moment in the car earlier?"
My jaw dropped. "You were spying?!"
"Lucky guess," she said innocently.
The boutique echoed with laughter. The warmth in that room—the laughter, the teasing, the comfort—wrapped around me like a blanket.
We weren't perfect. But we had each other. And that… that made all the difference.