Amelia came back, pouring the antiseptic onto a new cotton ball.

Ethan winced as she touched the drenched cotton to his open wound.

"Ethan?" she whispered, nudging him softly.

"I took care of him," he said.

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking at him like she knew something he didn't.

He gritted his teeth and twisted his words.

"Yes, of course. He won't hurt anyone else now."

She nodded, satisfied with her work as she placed the cotton at a side.

"Is the glass in your room? So, I can go clean it up."

"You don't have to. You've done enough."

"It's not a problem."

"Amelia, no," he said and she blinked, understanding that there wasn't going to be a debate about it. There was no way he was going to let her into his room and see the signs of his struggle.

"Okay but at least don't go back there until the mess is cleared?"

He nodded. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Come on, I'll help you," she said, standing beside him.

He tried to protest but a sharp pain shot through his leg as soon as he tried to put his weight on it. So, he shut his mouth as she hefted his arm over her shoulder, supporting half his weight as they walked towards the couches placed at the center of the room.

He tried not to get lost in the smell of her hair, lavender and something citrusy. Her touches felt a thousand times more intensified, as if it wasn't just her arm brushing his and instead, she had somehow consumed him. He felt her touch everywhere, like fire leaving behind a branding mark.

She sat him down, using the cushions as a makeshift pillow.

"I can do this," he said, trying to take the cushions from her but she ignored him, fluffing them up and propping them against the armrest.

She sat down a little distance away from him.

"Why do you live at such a secluded location?" she asked and he frowned at the unexpected question.

"Because I love the peace and quiet."

"You can have that in a nice suburb. This is so far away from everything and a little scary. What if you have to make an emergency grocery run in the middle of the night?"

"I won't have peace in a suburb because then I'd have neighbors," he said and watched her roll her eyes. "And I can drive, you know. For an emergency grocery run in the middle of the night, which, by the way, sounds very unlikely."

She looked at him weirdly, like he was the stupidest creature she'd ever met.

"Okay, I don't appreciate being judged by you like that," he said, a smile forming on his lips.

She laughed softly, breaking her gaze.

He found himself unable to look away. The sound was warm and magical and he could never get tired of hearing her laugh.

"Lia," he whispered, surprising even himself.

"What?" She asked, frowning at him.

He cleared his throat.

"Your issue with your name. I can call you Lia. It's a whole name as well and it has a nice meaning."

She smiled, beautiful and unnerving.

"What does it mean?"

"In Greek, it means 'bearer of good news.'"

"That's really beautiful," she said and he nodded, trying to pretend like he had just thought of this name for her when he'd been thinking it since the first time he saw her.

"How do you know Greek?" she asked.

"I don't but I traveled there a bunch of times so I learned a bit of the words."

"Where did you hear the name Lia, then?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of why he'd let the conversation drift in this direction.

"When I visited for the first time, I stayed with a couple. They were acting as my host plus guide because I was fairly new and I didn't know anyone else. The wife was pregnant and she said she wanted to find the gender the old fashioned way but she was so sure she was having a girl. I asked her how she knew and she said. 'Because my last baby told me about her.' Her last baby had died when he was barely a year old and she always said her girl would fix everything. She would bring blessings and love with her. I found that so unrealistic... yet, also so beautiful. This belief she had in her God and the love she had for that child."

He looked at her to find her staring with wide eyes, an awed look on her face. He looked away.

"Was the baby a girl?"

He laughed. "It was. She was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. They named her Leah."

She bit her lip, forehead frowned in a way that indicated she was close to tears.

"When I heard your name for the first time, I thought of her," he smiled. "The name suits you," he added and then immediately regretted it, unsure of how she would take it.

Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, she had become his good news, his ray of hope, his happy moments.

She stared at him, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as if she was preparing herself to say something. Thankfully, she hadn't paid attention to his comment.

"Can I ask you something personal?" she asked, her throat moving as if she wanted to swallow back her words.

"Go ahead."

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked, her words stringing together.

He blinked, turning to stare at her. She turned away, suddenly very interested in the fabric of her shirt.

"No," he replied, maybe a little too quickly. But that was the truth.

"Oh," she whispered. "Why not?"

Ethan shrugged. "Because I don't like being vulnerable."

She frowned at him.

"You can't move through life always being the strongest. Vulnerability makes us human."

"No, vulnerability allows us to be hurt and controlled. Why would you want that if you can just avoid it?"

"But at what cost? Being so careful of every single word you say and never allowing anyone to ever see you as you really are? Doesn't it get lonely?"

He stiffened. He didn't wanted to have this conversation anymore.

"People can make do with the version of me they do see. And no, it's not lonely. It's safe."

"Ethan," she said, a sigh lingering in her words.

"What?"

"Nevermind." she said, standing up abruptly.

"No, complete the conversation," he said, annoyed at her for walking away.

"You won't like it." she said nonchalantly. "I'm making hot chocolate for myself. You want a cup."

"Lia," he said warningly.

He got down from the couch with the intention of following her but winced as pain shot through his leg.

"Are you serious?" she gritted out, rushing back towards him.

"Answer the question."

"You are so annoying," she grumbled, trying to force him back onto the couch.

He held her wrists in his hands and she stilled.

"When has me not liking something ever stopped you from making your point?" he asked, his voice too soft to be recognized as his own.

She struggled for words, trying to get away from his grasp but he pulled her all the more closer.

"I wasn't trying to prove a point." she whispered.

"Okay, then, you said you know the real me. What am I like?"

Her expressions hardened and she took a step back but he didn't let go of her hands.

"I didn't say anything of the sort."

"But that's what you meant."

She sighed as if she was very done with him.

"Come on," he pushed.

She hesitated. Maybe because she knew if she answered his question, it would break down whatever walls that were left between them.

"Fine," she whispered, her eyes hard and calculating. "You're caring. And funny. You're so understanding. The rare moments you let down that mask, when you show me the real you, you're so warm in those moments. You like to pretend that you don't care about people around you but then you go to crazy lengths to make sure they're okay. You are so much more than the past you try so hard to hide."

The hard look faded from her eyes with every single word and they turned soft around the corners, a silent plea in them.

Ethan kept his face straight, acting like her words hadn't pierced his heart into two, like he wasn't bleeding internally because all he wanted was to prove her right, to become all the things she'd said and more yet he wasn't able to.

"I'm none of those things, Lia. Maybe you say this because that is what you want to see me as but that's not me."

"Ethan," she sighed.

He kissed the words from her lips. She stood frozen for a while before her fingers weaved through his hair.

He wanted to melt into her, into this sensation that felt a lot like peace.

They had never shared a kiss like this. There was no rush in the kiss. Ethan relished the feeling of her pressed into him, her hands in his hair, the way her lips moved lazily against his, as if they had all the time in the world.

Everything about him was soft and gentle now and he hadn't known he could be this way with someone.

He allowed himself to think that this was his reality and tried not to think of what would happen once this moment slipped from between his fingers.

He remembered how this relationship had started. With the promise of making her regret her words, of pushing her until she shattered but instead, here he was, breaking into a million little pieces in her arms and then coming back together a little freer and with a little less darkness within him.

She broke away from the kiss but her forehead rested against his.

"What are you doing to me?" she whispered.

He could have asked her the same question.

"I think," he said and she took a step back, as if she could taste his words before he uttered them. "I'm a little tired and not thinking straight. Just forget about this and go to bed."

She scoffed.

"Of course. Goodnight, Ethan." she said before walking away.

He stared at the empty space where she had been seconds ago, wondering if he'll ever have the courage to tell his truth to her.