Chapter 7: The Slow Burn

So, here we were, a few weeks later. And I was still trying to figure out how to do this. How to let myself care. How to open up to Isaiah without it all falling apart.

We hung out almost every weekend now. Sometimes it was just us walking around the block, getting food, or just sitting at the park, talking. The thing was, we didn't have to do anything big for it to feel important. It was just the way he made me feel—like I mattered, like I was enough. I wasn't used to that. And that shit messed with my head.

I'd always thought people could only care about me if I was perfect, if I didn't have all this baggage. But Isaiah? He didn't care. He was just there.

I remember one night, we were at his place, sitting on the couch, and the conversation drifted into something deeper. Isaiah had this way of getting me to talk about stuff I usually kept buried. But this time, I didn't even try to shut him out. I just let the words slip out before I could stop them.

"I don't really know how to do this," I muttered, staring at the screen as we watched some random movie. "Like, this whole thing. Us, I guess. I don't know how to... be open, you know?"

Isaiah turned to me, his eyes soft. He didn't say anything right away. Instead, he just gave me that look—the kind that made me feel like I was the only person in the room. He was waiting for me to keep talking.

"I'm not good at letting people in," I added, feeling the heat in my chest. "People always leave. They always end up leaving me, or... they die. I don't know what to do when someone sticks around. I don't know how to handle it."

Isaiah didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned in a little, just enough that I felt the warmth of his presence. His voice was steady, calm, like he was trying to ground me. "You don't have to be perfect, Amir. You don't have to figure it all out right now. We'll take it slow. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

I hated how those words made my chest tighten. He was so sure, so confident, and I wasn't used to that. I wasn't used to someone telling me they weren't going anywhere and actually meaning it.

"You say that now, but I'm not exactly easy to deal with," I said, forcing out a laugh that felt more nervous than anything.

He smiled, and it was that same damn smile that made my heart flutter. "I don't care. I'm not trying to fix you, Amir. I'm just here. Whenever you're ready."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just nodded, my eyes avoiding his because if I looked at him too long, I might've said something that made this whole thing real.

It felt like the slowest burn. Like I was tiptoeing around a fire, too scared to jump in, but too drawn in to turn away.