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This was specific. Intentional.

I smiled.

Okay.

Okay.

I typed back fast, because overthinking was how you missed moments.

Yes. And yes, I’ll let you tickle me. [laugh emoji]

A moment later, a thought occurred and I typed.

At Obsidian?

My heart thumped. Are we pretending this is light? Because I can do light.

Three dots appeared almost instantly, and I sat up a little straighter, my heart suddenly beating way too fast for someone who had just delivered a joke about tickling.

No. My place.

Fuck.

My place wasn’t neutral ground. It wasn’t Obsidian’s charcoal and green walls, negotiated lighting, and public exits. This was his space. His life.

I swallowed. This feels like integration. The kind I’d just admitted I wanted.

I stared at the screen a moment longer, then let out a slow breath.

He isn’t pulling back. He isn’t shoving me into a scene to regain control.

He’s moving it forward.

And he’d asked. Not commanded or assumed—asked.

My heart did something stupid and hopeful.

I typed slowly this time.

Okay.

Then, because I couldn’t resist:

Should I bring snacks, or is yours a strict no-fun household?

I hit send and lay back against my pillows, staring at the ceiling.

A moment later his reply pinged back. It was an eye roll emoji.

Yeah, that was okay.

Then it hit me. I typed quickly. You do know it’s Wednesday now, right?

It took a few seconds for his response to arrive.

Oh. So it is.

So do you still want to meet…tonight?