The ride back was quiet.
Not the kind of silence that came from distance or discomfort—but the kind that settled when something important had already been said. When words had done their job, and now all that remained was the weight of them.
Leah sat beside Izana, her hand still resting in his, their fingers loosely intertwined. Neither of them had let go since they'd left the shop.
Outside, the world moved as it always did—people passing, cars drifting by, the soft hum of life continuing without pause.
But inside the car, everything felt slower.
Closer.
Leah found herself staring at their hands for a moment, her thumb brushing lightly against his without thinking. He didn't react outwardly, but his grip shifted—tightening just slightly in response.
Her chest warmed.
That moment in the shop lingered in her mind.
Do you still want that?
I want it now.
She hadn't imagined the way he said it.
There had been no hesitation.
No doubt.
Just certainty.
And that certainty had followed them all the way home.
The car came to a slow stop in front of the mansion.
Neither of them moved right away.
For just a second, they stayed where they were—still, grounded in the quiet.
Then Izana's thumb brushed once more over her hand before he released it, stepping out first and turning to her.
He didn't offer words.
He didn't need to.
He simply held out his hand again.
Leah took it without hesitation.
—
The mansion doors opened, the familiar stillness greeting them as they stepped inside.
Normally, this place felt vast. Controlled. Almost distant.
But today, it felt… different.
Warmer.
Or maybe it was just them.
Izana didn't stop in the main hall.
Didn't acknowledge anything around them.
He just kept walking.
Leah followed easily, her hand still in his as he led her forward, his pace steady and deliberate.
"…Iz?" she called softly, a small note of curiosity slipping into her voice.
He didn't answer.
But his grip tightened just slightly.
That was enough.
Her heartbeat picked up—not from uncertainty, but from the quiet understanding settling in her chest.
They moved up the stairs.
Down the familiar corridor.
Until they reached their door.
Izana opened it without pause, guiding her inside before stepping in after her.
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
And everything else seemed to fall away.
Leah barely had time to turn—
Before he moved.
It wasn't sudden in a way that startled her.
It wasn't forceful.
It was controlled.
Intentional.
His hand found her arm, guiding her back just enough until her back met the wall. Not harshly—just enough to stop her movement.
Her breath caught.
"Iz—."
He stepped closer.
Close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, the steady presence that always seemed to anchor her.
His hand lifted.
And then—
He cupped her cheek.
Gently.
Carefully.
Like she was something to be handled with care, not taken.
Leah's breath softened as her eyes lifted to meet his.
There was no teasing in his expression.
No smirk.
No distance.
Only something deeper.
Something serious.
Something real.
"…Do you really want this?"
His voice was low.
Quiet.
But steady in a way that made the question feel heavier than anything else he had said all day.
Leah stilled.
For a moment, everything around them seemed to fade, leaving only that question suspended between them.
She knew exactly what he meant.
Not just tonight.
Not just this moment.
But everything beyond it.
A child.
A future.
A life that would change both of theirs completely.
Her cheeks warmed, a faint blush rising as his gaze remained fixed on her—not demanding, not assuming.
Waiting.
He was waiting for her.
For her answer.
Her hands lifted slowly, finding their way around his neck, her fingers resting lightly there as she stepped closer into him.
"I…" she began softly.
Her voice wavered for just a second.
Then steadied.
"I want your child."
The words came out quiet.
But they were certain.
And that certainty was enough.
Something in Izana's expression shifted instantly.
Whatever hesitation had lingered in him—gone.
Replaced with something clearer.
Something decided.
Without another word—
He moved.
His arms slipped around her, lifting her effortlessly from the ground. Leah let out a soft breath of surprise, her arms tightening around his neck as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.
"Iz—."
She didn't finish.
Because he kissed her.
Deep.
Certain.
There was no hesitation in it.
No doubt.
Only everything he hadn't said aloud.
Leah responded instantly, her fingers threading into his hair, holding him close as if she didn't want even the smallest space between them.
The world beyond them blurred.
Faded.
Until there was nothing left but the two of them.
He held her securely as he walked, each step steady, controlled. He didn't rush, didn't stumble—his focus entirely on her, on the moment, on the choice they had both just made.
Their lips parted only briefly, just enough to breathe, before finding each other again.
The bed came into reach.
He lowered her gently, carefully, as if she were something precious.
His hand lingered at her waist as he hovered over her.
For a moment—
He just looked at her.
Really looked.
As if memorizing every detail.
Leah met his gaze, her breathing soft but uneven, her hands still resting against him.
"Iz…" she murmured again, quieter this time.
He didn't respond with words.
Instead, he leaned down once more.
But this time, his lips didn't meet hers.
They moved lower.
Brushing along her jaw.
Then her neck.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Each touch deliberate.
Each moment stretched.
Leah's breath hitched softly, her hands moving to his shirt, fingers brushing against the fabric before she began undoing the buttons one by one.
Not rushed.
Not uncertain.
Just steady.
Close.
Connected.
His hand found hers briefly, guiding, steadying, before slipping back to her side as his lips traced slow paths along her skin.
There was no urgency.
No pressure.
Only the quiet understanding of what they were choosing.
Together.
Leah's fingers slid against his chest as the fabric loosened, her touch gentle, familiar, and yet filled with something new.
Something deeper.
The space between them disappeared completely.
Replaced by warmth.
By closeness.
By trust.
And everything that followed—
Was theirs.
The room grew quieter.
The world outside faded further and further away until it no longer existed.
Time itself seemed to slow, then disappear entirely.
There were no words.
They didn't need them.
Everything was said in the way he held her.
In the way she stayed close.
In the way neither of them pulled away.
And as the night stretched on, wrapped in quiet warmth and shared breath—
There was no hesitation.
No doubt.
No fear.
Only the certainty of the choice they had made.
Together.
Because this time—
It wasn't a question.
It wasn't uncertainty.
It wasn't something left unsaid.
It was a decision.
And neither of them looked away from it.