I wanted to freeze the moment—the way her voice softened when she said Selene, the way the late afternoon sun caught the strands of her hair. It was fragile, this new beginning. Like holding a butterfly in my hands and being terrified of crushing it.
We didn't rush it. We just sat there, letting the silence say what words couldn't. Sometimes love isn't loud; sometimes it's found in the spaces between conversations, in the quiet trust of two hearts learning to breathe near each other again.
"You know," I said after a while, "I used to imagine what it would be like if you gave me a second chance. What I would say, what I would do differently."
She smiled, a small, almost sad smile. "And what would you do differently?"
"Everything," I said without thinking. "I would never make you doubt your worth. I'd fight for you, even when I was scared. Especially when I was scared."
She looked down at her hands resting on her lap. "I'm not the same girl you once knew."
"I know," I said. "And I'm not the same guy. Maybe that's a good thing."
For the first time, she didn't look away. She let me see all the hurt, all the bravery it took for her to sit here with me after everything. And something inside me broke—in the best way possible.
Maybe we could never erase the past.
Maybe we weren't meant to.
Maybe we were meant to build something stronger because of it.
And as we sat there, the sun sinking lower behind us, I realized something even bigger:
I wasn't here to win her back.
I was here to prove, day after day, that I was worth the risk.
And this time, I wouldn't leave any doubt in her heart.
Selene's/Atasha's POV:
Sitting there beside him, I felt something I hadn't allowed myself to feel in a long time—hope. It was terrifying. It would have been easier to stay angry, to keep my heart locked away where no one could reach it. But somehow, just being near him made the walls I'd built start to crack.
I turned my head slightly, studying him in the golden light. His hair was a little longer now, his jaw a little sharper. He looked more like a man than the boy I had fallen for. But there was something in his eyes that hadn't changed—the way they softened when he looked at me, like I was still the most important thing he could see.
"I'm scared," I whispered, not even sure if I wanted him to hear.
But he did. He heard it all. And instead of trying to fix it, instead of rushing toward me with promises, he just nodded, as if to say me too.
It wasn't a grand gesture. It wasn't fireworks or loud declarations.
It was simple. Quiet. Real.
Maybe love wasn't about being fearless.
Maybe it was about being scared and staying anyway.
As the sun disappeared beyond the trees and the cool air kissed my skin, I realized something even more frightening than the fear itself—
I wanted to trust him again.
Not because I had to.
But because deep down, even after everything, I still believed we were meant to find each other again.
And maybe, just maybe, this time, we'd get it right.