The evening air was soft and golden, the sky bleeding into hues of lavender and sleepy pink. From my place by the window, I could see the garden at the back of Liam's house—tall trees swaying gently, little fairy lights strung between branches, swaying like tiny stars caught in a breeze.
I pressed my forehead lightly against the glass, a sigh escaping my lips.
I wanted to go outside.
I needed air.
But my legs were still too weak, nothing more than heavy, uncooperative weights beneath me.
Chloe, who had been my human crutch for weeks now, wasn't here tonight. Her parents had missed her too much—something about Sunday dinners and family bonding. She had reluctantly promised to come back tomorrow morning.
That left me... stuck. Dreaming of the outside air. Feeling just a little bit caged inside this mansion-sized house.
I was trying to ignore it, when a knock sounded on the door.
Before I could respond, Liam poked his head inside, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. He looked casual—black joggers, a loose white t-shirt, messy hair that made him look unfairly good. Too good. Unfair, really.
"You good?" he asked, stepping fully into the room.
I hesitated.
He noticed.
"What do you need, Firefly?" he asked again, softer this time, walking up to me.
I hated asking for help. But... this was Liam. And maybe, deep inside, a very silly, very hidden part of me wanted him to offer.
"I... wanted to go outside," I muttered, fiddling with the edge of my blanket. "But..." I gestured helplessly toward my legs.
For a second, he just stood there, his eyes warm and unreadable.
Then, without a word, he bent down—one arm under my knees, the other around my back—and lifted me effortlessly into the air.
I gasped, my hands instinctively flying to his shoulders. My cheeks erupted in flames. I could literally feel myself blushing like a tomato.
"L-Liam!" I squeaked. "You don't have to—"
He smirked, that annoying, heart-flipping smirk of his. "I want to," he said simply. "You're light as a feather. Barely a workout."
I glared at him half-heartedly, but my heart was hammering so loud it was a miracle he couldn't hear it.
He adjusted his grip slightly, pulling me closer to his chest like I was the most precious thing he ever carried. His scent wrapped around me—something clean and warm and ridiculously comforting—and I gave up the fight. I melted against him, my head resting lightly on his shoulder.
"You're blushing so hard it's practically illegal," he teased under his breath as he carried me out of the room.
"I hate you," I muttered into his shirt.
"Sure you do," he chuckled.
He carried me down the marble hallway, past the curious glances of a few maids who tried (and failed) to hide their smiles. He carried me outside onto the soft grass of the back garden, where the fairy lights twinkled and a gentle breeze kissed my face.
He finally sat down on a low wooden bench tucked beneath a huge willow tree, keeping me cradled carefully on his lap.
"I can sit beside you, you know," I grumbled weakly.
"Nope," he said, popping the 'p'. "You're staying right here."
And honestly?
I didn't want to move anyway.
We sat there for a while, talking. About everything and nothing.
I asked about his favorite books. He asked about my dreams. We laughed about the time Chloe tried to bake cookies and almost burned Liam's kitchen down. We talked about stupid cartoons from when we were kids, about songs that made us cry, about places we'd want to visit one day if life ever decided to be kind.
The stars blinked lazily above us. The world faded into a soft, safe haze.
At some point, I must have gotten too comfortable, because my eyelids grew heavy. My head drooped against his shoulder. His voice, low and steady, lulled me further toward sleep until I couldn't fight it anymore.
I fell asleep.
Right there, curled against him under the whispering trees.
Liam froze when he realized.
He tilted his head slightly, looking down at me.
The way my lashes rested against my cheeks.
The tiny crease between my brows, even in sleep.
The way my lips parted slightly, like I was in the middle of dreaming something sweet.
He didn't dare move.
Slowly, almost reverently, he lifted a hand and brushed his fingers lightly across my cheek. His touch was feather-soft, like he was afraid even the gentlest brush would wake me.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, almost like a secret meant only for the stars.
His thumb traced my jawline, tender and slow.
He hesitated.
And then, heart hammering, he leaned in and pressed the lightest kiss to my cherry-red cheek.
He lingered there for a second longer, breathing in the closeness, feeling the steady beat of my heart against his chest.
A part of him wished he could stop time right here, keep me safe in this moment forever.
"I'll protect you," he whispered against my skin. "I swear."
And somewhere deep inside my dreaming mind, even though I was asleep, I felt it—the warmth of him.
The way his arms tightened just a little around me.
The way he anchored me to this world without even trying.
I smiled faintly in my sleep, a peaceful smile I hadn't worn in what felt like a lifetime.
And Liam—he smiled too.
Because for the first time since everything fell apart, he wasn't scared.
He had me.
And maybe... just maybe...
I had him too.
The first thing I noticed when I woke up... was the warmth.
Not just the cozy kind, but the kind that wraps around you completely, sinking into your bones, making you never want to move again.
I blinked slowly, my eyes struggling to adjust to the soft sunlight filtering through the garden trees.
The second thing I noticed... was the steady thump of a heartbeat beneath my ear.
Wait.
Heartbeat?
Beneath my ear?
Oh no.
I stiffened slightly—and that's when it hit me.
I wasn't in my bed.
I wasn't even inside the house.
I was curled up like a freaking cat on Liam, who was still sitting on the garden bench, his arms loosely wrapped around me, his chin resting against the top of my head.
My heart exploded into a thousand fireworks.
Abort mission. Abort. Panic mode: ON.
I tried to move carefully, maybe slip away without waking him up.
But the moment I shifted, his arms tightened instinctively, holding me closer.
"Five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice rough and sleepy against my hair.
I froze.
He was awake.
He knew.
I was dead. Officially dead.
"Uhh... Liam?" I croaked out, my voice embarrassingly small.
He cracked one eye open and looked down at me, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his stupidly handsome face.
"You drooled on me," he said.
I gasped, horrified, my hands flying to my mouth. "I did not!"
He laughed, low and warm. "I'm kidding, Firefly."
I smacked his chest weakly, my cheeks burning hotter than the sun.
"You're evil," I muttered, trying to sit up. He finally loosened his hold, letting me move, but not before brushing his hand lightly against my waist to steady me.
As I sat beside him on the bench, trying to control the internal meltdown happening inside my chest, Liam just leaned back, stretching his arms lazily like he hadn't just turned my entire existence into a rom-com disaster.
"You looked peaceful," he said casually. "Didn't wanna wake you up. You needed it."
I tugged at the sleeves of my oversized sweater, pretending to focus really, really hard on a blade of grass.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean to—"
"Don't be," he cut in, his voice gentle now.
"I... I liked it."
My breath hitched.
I dared to glance up at him—and there it was.
That rare, unguarded look in his eyes.
Soft. Honest.
A little scared too, like he wasn't sure if he should've said that.
My heart did a somersault.
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.
The garden around us felt suspended in a bubble—birds chirping faintly, morning light weaving golden strands through the air, everything slow and sacred.
Finally, Liam cleared his throat awkwardly.
"You were talking in your sleep, though," he added, smirking again.
My soul left my body. "W-what?! What did I say?"
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice dramatically.
"You said... 'More pizza, please.'"
I stared at him in horror. "You're lying!"
"Cross my heart," he said solemnly, crossing an invisible X over his chest.
I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole.
I buried my face in my hands, groaning. "I'm never going to recover from this."
Liam chuckled, nudging my knee with his.
"Hey, it's fine. I like a girl with good priorities."
I peeked at him through my fingers—and when I saw the sparkle in his eyes, the real, mischievous happiness there, I couldn't help but laugh too.
It was stupid.
It was perfect.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the laughter didn't feel forced.
It bubbled up from somewhere real and untouched by the chaos that had swallowed my life lately.
As we sat there, side by side on the garden bench, the early morning sun spilling gold all over us, something shifted.
Something small and invisible, but important.
It was more than friendship.
More than comfort.
It was a promise... unspoken, but understood.
Whatever storms were coming,
Whatever monsters were still hiding in the dark corners of my life,
Liam was here.
Holding me through the night,
Making me laugh through the mess,
Catching me when I fell asleep—and maybe, catching me in other ways too.
And for now...
That was enough.