Sebastian – POV
I didn't sleep that night.
I sat on the floor of the garage, back pressed against the washing machine, the cold air thick with the scent of rain and motor oil. My cigarette burned out hours ago, but I hadn't moved. Couldn't.
My mom's words were still echoing.
Let someone love you.
The silence was louder than my thoughts.
Somewhere around 4 a.m., I stood up.
No plan. No script. No expectation.
Just a pull I couldn't ignore.
I grabbed my jacket, stepped out into the fog, and walked the winding trail to Hannah's farm.
The green rain had passed, but the land still glowed faintly with its aftershock. Ferns curled around fence posts. The soil pulsed like something ancient had stirred beneath it.
When I reached her porch, I hesitated. My hand hovered over the door. I didn't knock right away.
I never do this. I don't just... show up. Not uninvited. Not vulnerable. But I wasn't here to perform. I wasn't here to pretend I was fine.
I knocked. Once. Then again.
A few seconds later, the porch light flicked on. The door creaked open, and there she was.
Hannah.
Wrapped in a loose sweater, hair messy from sleep, eyes wide with surprise—and maybe something else. Worry?
"Sebastian?" she asked, voice groggy.
I cleared my throat. "Yeah. Sorry. I know it's late."
Her gaze searched my face. I didn't look away this time.
"It's okay," she said, stepping back to let me in. "Come in."
I walked into the warmth of her home. It smelled like cedar and something citrusy. The fireplace was still glowing faintly, casting flickering shadows on the wood-paneled walls. A couple of empty beer cans sat on the table.
Alex had been here.
Of course he had.
"You want coffee?" she asked, heading to the kitchen, voice trying to stay casual.
"No." I paused. "I just... I needed to talk to you."
She stilled. Her hand rested on the edge of the counter. She didn't turn around.
"Alex said something at the Saloon," I continued, voice low. "About you. About... me."
She turned then. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes were soft. Tired.
"What did he say," she asked hesitantly.
I stepped forward. "Is it true?"
Her silence answered for her.
I felt something tighten in my chest—fear and warmth crashing into each other. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets to stop them from shaking.
"I don't know why," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what you see in me. I've tried everything to make it impossible for someone to love me."
Her expression shifted—sadness blooming behind her eyes. " You try so hard not to let anyone in, and still... I see you."
She stood where she was.
"I don't want to be another person who hurts you," I admitted. "But I'm scared I will be. That I'll mess this up. That I already have, what I said to you at the moonlight festival, I don't think loving you, is complicated. Loving myself is complicated. I don't know how to be what you need."
"I never asked you to be anything but yourself." She said softly running a hand through her messy hair, "I literally never asked you to do anything, I fell in love with you for you, and you left me standing there at the festival feeling like an idiot, like I just made this all up in my head."
That undid me. That ruined me.
The vulnerability cracked through my ribs. I stepped closer, not knowing what I was doing, only that it felt like the only thing keeping me standing was her.
"It killed me saying that, Hannah, and that says a lot because everyday that I wake up I already feel dead inside. Alex can say whatever he wants to, I do care about you, more than I have ever cared about anything before in my life." I said, "I'm not good at this, but if there's a chance... if you meant what you said... I want to try."
Hannah's eyes shone in the dim firelight. I placed my hand on the back of her head, and I pulled her lips into mine, the room started spinning, my stomach bubbled up with something that I never thought I'd feel this before, I've never kissed anyone before. I've never felt this feeling in my life, nothing has ever made me feel this way.
And for the first time in a long, long time—maybe ever—I didn't feel like running.
Hannah – POV
When Sebastian kissed me, everything else vanished.
I wasn't standing in my farmhouse in the middle of the night.
I wasn't trying to pretend I didn't love him.
I wasn't trying to protect myself anymore.
I was just here. With him.
His lips were hesitant at first, like he was still waiting for me to push him away. But I didn't. I wouldn't. My hands slid into his jacket, clinging to the warmth of him like it was the first real thing I'd felt in weeks.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, both of us breathless. I could feel the thundering in his chest as if it were my own.
"Sebastian..." I whispered, my voice shaking. I didn't know what I was going to say. I just needed to say something, to tether myself to this moment before it disappeared.
"I meant it," I said, my voice small but steady. "What I told Alex. I didn't want to say it to him, but... I didn't know if I'd ever get to say it to you."
He didn't speak. His eyes were locked on mine, glassy in the firelight. He looked like he was trying to memorize everything—my face, my words, the way I was still here.
"You scare the hell out of me," I admitted, a breath of laughter catching in my throat. "Because I've never wanted something like this before. Not with anyone. And I think part of me believed you'd never come back once you left me at the festival."
"I didn't think I deserved to," he murmured. "I thought walking away would protect you."
"From what?"
"From me," he said simply.
It hurt. Hearing that. Knowing he'd rather cut me out than take the risk of being loved.
But I wasn't going to let him go—not now.
"You don't get to do that anymore," I said, stronger now. "You don't get to decide what I want or what I can handle. If I'm going to risk my life walking into Skull Cavern, then I sure as hell can risk loving you."
His eyes dropped to the floor, and for a second I saw that boy he used to be—quiet, guarded, carrying too much weight on too narrow shoulders.
I reached out, brushing my fingers across his cheek, and he leaned into it like it hurt to be touched, but he needed it anyway.
"I want this," I told him. "Even if you're still figuring everything out. Even if it's messy. I want you."
The silence stretched, but it wasn't heavy anymore. It felt like something soft settling between us—like a breath finally exhaled.
Sebastian didn't say anything else. He just let out a long, shaky breath and pulled me into him again, arms wrapping around my waist, forehead buried in the crook of my neck like he was trying to disappear into me.
And I held him.
For the first time, he let himself be held.
We didn't need to say more.
Not tonight.
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