A week had passed.
Quietly.
Soft days.
Slow mornings.
Spring settled fully around the mansion.
No snow.
Just warmth.
Just light.
Inside—
Stillness.
Izana hadn't left.
Not today.
Not this time.
Work ignored.
Meetings postponed.
Everything else—secondary.
Only her.
Only Leah.
They sat in the living room.
Close.
The television flickered softly.
A movie playing.
Unimportant.
Leah leaned into him.
Head resting against his arm.
Comfortable.
Natural.
His arm curved slightly around her.
Not tight.
Just there.
Always there.
"…This is terrible," he murmured.
Her lips curved faintly.
"…You've said that three times."
"…Because it keeps getting worse."
"…It's not that bad."
"…He just ran into the door."
"…It was supposed to be funny."
"…It wasn't."
A small laugh escaped her.
Soft.
Quiet.
He glanced down slightly.
Watching her reaction.
"…You're laughing."
"…At you," she whispered.
"…That's unfair."
"…You're making it funny."
"…I'm improving the experience."
"…You're ruining it."
"…Same thing."
She laughed again.
Warmer this time.
Easier.
Her fingers shifted slightly against his sleeve.
Holding onto him without thinking.
The movie continued.
Voices in the background.
Unnoticed.
Unimportant.
"…You're quiet again," he murmured.
"…Just tired."
"…You've been saying that."
"…Because it's true."
A pause.
His hand moved slightly.
Brushing along her arm.
"…Still?"
"…Mm."
"…Does it feel worse?"
A small hesitation.
"…A little."
Silence settled.
Not empty.
Not heavy.
Just… aware.
The screen flickered again.
A loud moment.
He didn't react.
She didn't either.
Then—
It hit.
Sudden.
Sharp.
Her stomach twisted.
Hard.
Her body tensed instantly.
Breath catching.
"…Iz—."
He felt it.
Before she even finished.
His arm tightened slightly.
"…What?"
She pulled away.
Too quickly.
Too sudden.
"…I—."
She stood.
Fast.
Unsteady.
The room shifted for a second.
He was already moving.
"…Li."
She didn't answer.
Didn't stop.
Steps quick.
Unbalanced.
Straight toward the nearest bathroom.
He followed.
Close.
Not letting distance form.
She barely made it.
Hands bracing against the edge.
Leaning forward.
Her body reacting before she could stop it.
He was there immediately.
Kneeling beside her.
Hand moving to her hair.
Holding it back gently.
The other at her back.
Slow.
Steady.
Rubbing small circles.
"…Shh."
Low.
Calm.
Grounding.
Her shoulders shook.
Breath uneven.
Her grip tightened.
"…I don't—."
Her voice broke.
He didn't interrupt.
Just stayed.
Just held.
"…It's okay."
Soft.
Certain.
His hand didn't stop moving.
Consistent.
Reassuring.
Time stretched.
Moments blurred.
Then slowly—
It passed.
Her body eased.
Just slightly.
Not fully.
Never fully.
He stayed where he was.
Didn't rush.
Didn't move her yet.
Just waited.
Until she leaned back.
Weak.
Tired.
He caught her immediately.
Arms around her.
Pulling her gently into him.
Careful.
Always careful.
They sat on the floor.
Right there.
No distance.
No space.
Her head rested against his chest.
Breathing uneven.
His hand still at her back.
Slower now.
Gentler.
Her fingers curled into his shirt.
Holding on.
Not letting go.
Then—
Tears.
Quiet at first.
Barely there.
Then more.
"…I don't know what's happening."
Her voice small.
Unsteady.
He tightened his hold slightly.
One hand moving to her head.
Pressing it gently against him.
"…Shh."
Soft.
Close.
A kiss to her hair.
Lingering.
"…It's okay."
She shook her head slightly.
"…It's not."
Another tear slipped down.
"…I don't understand."
His thumb brushed lightly along her arm.
Slow.
Reassuring.
"…You don't have to."
A pause.
Her grip tightened.
"…I feel… wrong."
"…You're not."
Immediate.
Certain.
No hesitation.
She let out a shaky breath.
"…I don't like this."
"…I know."
Another pause.
Longer.
Quieter.
He didn't rush her.
Didn't push.
Just stayed.
Just held.
"…Can I take you to the doctor?"
Low.
Gentle.
Careful.
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
Eyes closing briefly.
Then—
A small nod.
Barely there.
"…Okay."
He moved slowly.
Adjusting his hold.
One arm beneath her.
The other steady at her back.
Lifting her carefully.
Effortless.
But gentle.
Always gentle.
Her arms wrapped around his neck.
Instinctive.
Her body leaning into him.
Trusting.
"…I've got you."
Quiet.
Certain.
He stood.
Steps steady.
Measured.
Through the halls.
Past the quiet walls.
Sunlight stretching across the floor.
Everything still.
Everything calm.
Except her.
She stayed close.
Closer than before.
Her face near his neck.
Breath soft.
Uneven.
"…I'm okay," she whispered.
"…I know."
But he didn't loosen his hold.
Not even slightly.
The medical corridor came into view.
White.
Clean.
Quiet.
A nurse looked up.
Noticing immediately.
He didn't stop walking.
"…I need help."
Simple.
Direct.
No hesitation.
She moved instantly.
Guiding them.
Quick.
Efficient.
A door opened.
Examination room.
Still.
Prepared.
He stepped inside.
Careful.
Slow.
Lowering her onto the bed.
One hand supporting her head.
The other steady at her side.
He adjusted the pillow.
Lifting it slightly.
Positioning it properly.
Making sure she was comfortable.
No rushed movement.
Every action deliberate.
Thought through.
She watched him.
Quiet.
Her eyes softer now.
Something shifting there.
Not just fear.
Something deeper.
Recognition.
Understanding.
The way he moved.
The way he handled her.
The way he didn't hesitate.
Didn't falter.
Didn't leave.
His hand brushed her arm lightly.
Checking.
Always checking.
Then he pulled a chair closer.
Sat beside her.
Close enough.
Not distant.
Never distant.
His hand found hers.
Fingers intertwining.
Holding.
Grounding.
The nurse stepped back slightly.
"…The doctor will be here soon."
He nodded once.
Barely.
Attention never leaving her.
Silence settled again.
Different now.
Quieter.
But heavier.
She looked at him.
Eyes glassy.
And then—
More tears.
Sudden.
Uncontrolled.
"…I'm sorry."
Quick.
Immediate.
"…I don't know why I'm—."
She stopped.
Frustrated.
Confused.
Overwhelmed.
He leaned forward instantly.
Closing the space.
One hand lifting to her face.
Thumb brushing gently beneath her eye.
Wiping the tear away.
"…No."
Soft.
Firm.
"…Don't apologise."
Another tear slipped down.
He caught it again.
Careful.
Gentle.
"…You don't have to."
She shook her head slightly.
"…I've just been… emotional."
"…I know."
No judgment.
No confusion.
Just acceptance.
His hand moved to her cheek.
Holding it lightly.
Grounding her again.
"…It's okay."
He leaned closer.
Forehead brushing hers briefly.
A quiet moment.
Shared.
Steady.
"…You're okay."
Soft.
Certain.
His arm moved around her again.
Pulling her gently into him.
Careful of her position.
Not too much.
Just enough.
She leaned into him.
Without hesitation.
Without resistance.
Her breathing slowly evening out.
His hand rubbing her arm.
Up.
Down.
Slow.
Consistent.
Reassuring.
Neither of them spoke.
Not for a while.
They didn't need to.
The room stayed quiet.
Still.
Waiting.
But no longer overwhelming.
Because he was there.
Because she wasn't alone.
And his hand never left hers.