The space between them had already changed.
It was no longer just distance.
It was awareness.
Vanessa could feel it in the way Gale's hand still rested around her wrist, not tightening, not pulling, just there—steady, grounding, but impossible to ignore. His touch wasn't forceful, and yet it held a kind of quiet weight, the kind that made her hyper-aware of every small movement, every breath she took.
She should have stepped back.
That would have been the logical thing to do.
Create space. Regain control. Rebuild the line she had drawn earlier.
But she didn't.
Instead, she stayed exactly where she was, her pulse betraying her in small, uneven beats she refused to acknowledge out loud.
"You're still thinking," Gale said quietly.
His voice was closer now.
Not loud.
Not intrusive.
But close enough that she felt it more than heard it.
Vanessa let out a slow breath, her eyes lifting to meet his.
"Yes."
A pause.
Then, softer—
"You always notice that."
