Chapter 2: Breaking Down Walls

He broke away just long enough to whisper against her lips, "I love you."

And perhaps, he had loved her even earlier than he realized.

A memory flashed—her laughter on a long-ago summer day, the way she’d always known how to comfort him. He realized now that every moment had been building to this. It was as if every missed chance, every lonely night, had led him here.

After a long moment, Evan slowly let go, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his head beside Lauren’s hair, breathing heavily. He pressed his face into her shoulder, the scent of her lavender shampoo filling his senses, letting the tension seep out of his body.

He pressed his face into her shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo, letting the tension seep out of his body. He squeezed her waist, his fingers digging in gently, as if to reassure himself she was real.

He seemed to especially like holding her this way—her head tucked beneath his chin, her arms around his neck, the two of them cocooned in a safe, private bubble.

His grip tightened unconsciously, as if afraid she might vanish again if he let go. The warmth of her body was a balm to every wound he’d carried for years. His thumb traced lazy circles on her back, grounding him.

Lauren reached out and gently stroked his back, comforting him with slow, tender caresses. Her palm moved in slow, soothing circles, her touch as gentle as a spring breeze.

Her fingers traced soothing circles, and she hummed a quiet tune under her breath—a lullaby from their childhood, barely remembered but deeply comforting. The melody drifted between them, soft as a memory.

"You answered my question. Now let me answer yours."

She shifted slightly in his arms, finding a comfortable spot, her voice muffled by his shoulder but clear in its sincerity. The city’s glow painted gold across the walls, the world outside forgotten.

Held in Evan’s embrace, her voice was muffled.

She nuzzled into his chest, drawing strength from his steady heartbeat. The room felt safe, cocooned from the chaos of the outside world. She closed her eyes, letting herself be still for the first time in ages.

"Today’s only my second day back here. I never planned to leave. I came to find you. I won’t leave."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with conviction. "I’m here for you."

"If I just left, there would be no more you. I’d never meet someone I care about this much again—someone like you."

Her words were soft but certain. She squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in a silent promise. The room felt warmer, the city’s noise a distant hum.

Evan’s embrace was broad and warm, dispelling the lingering chill of the early summer night. He asked nothing more, only called her, "Sis."

His voice, no longer that of a boy, was now deep and magnetic, the long-missed address carrying a tenderness that made her heart ache. The word was loaded, heavy with memories and longing.

The word caught in his throat, thick with emotion. It was both a greeting and a plea, a reminder of everything they’d shared and everything they still could be.

"Let’s go home, Evan. Take me home."

She reached for his hand, her grip steady and sure. The word "home" lingered in the air, full of hope and longing. She squeezed his palm, her thumb tracing a gentle promise.

"Okay."

He smiled—a real, unguarded smile—and squeezed her hand in return. His eyes shone, the city lights reflected in their depths.

Years ago, his sister had held his hand and walked him home.

He remembered the way her small fingers had wrapped around his, the comfort it had brought him as a child. The memory made his chest ache with nostalgia.

Now, it was his turn to take her hand.

He threaded his fingers through hers, leading her gently but confidently toward the door. Their steps matched, the echo of their shoes on the hardwood floor a quiet rhythm.

After all the twists and turns, after that birthday at the amusement park and the wish made atop the Ferris wheel—

The memory of colored lights and laughter flashed between them, bittersweet and bright. He realized, in that moment, that wishes sometimes do come true. He thought of the old wooden roller coaster at Coney Island, the way the city skyline glittered from the top of the Ferris wheel.

He had finally fulfilled it.

He exhaled, a shaky breath of relief and joy mingling in the night air. The cool breeze from the window carried the distant scent of rain and street food.