That evening, Harley took me to a place that was quieter than anywhere else we had been.
It overlooked the city from a distance—far enough from the noise, but close enough that the lights stretched endlessly beneath us. From up here, everything felt smaller. Distant. Like the world couldn't quite reach us.
Paris at night was… breathtaking.
Golden lights flickered across the skyline, the Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance like something out of a dream. It shimmered against the dark sky, steady and unwavering—like something permanent. Something impossible to ignore.
I stepped closer to the railing, resting my hands against it as I took it all in. The cool metal grounded me, anchoring me to the moment as everything else felt like it was slipping somewhere I couldn't control.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
Harley walked up beside me. He looked at the night city before us. "Yeah." But his voice didn't carry the same awe. It was quieter. Focused somewhere else.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. The air was cool, the breeze soft against my skin.
But the silence between us—it wasn't empty. It was full of everything we weren't saying. I exhaled slowly. Like if I didn't, I might suffocate under the weight of it.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, breaking the silence between us.
Harley didn't answer right away. When I glanced at him, he was already looking at me. No teasing. Just… looking. Really looking. Like he had been waiting for this moment.
My breath hitched.
"I thought you'd like it," he said quietly. But there was something else in his voice. Something unspoken.
I nodded slowly. "I do."
But that wasn't what I meant. And I think he knew it too. The distance between us suddenly felt smaller.
Or maybe…
We had just stopped pretending it was there. My fingers tightened slightly around the railing as I turned to face him. The movement felt heavier than it should have—like I was stepping into something I couldn't step back from.
"Harley—"
His hand moved first.
He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around my wrist, pulling me just a little closer. His touch was warm. Firm. Certain. Like he had already decided something.
Not enough to startle me. Just enough that I felt it. My heart began to race. Too fast. Too loud. Like it was betraying me.
"Don't," he said softly.
I blinked. "Don't what?"
"Don't pull away this time." His voice was quiet—but there was something fragile beneath it. Something close to breaking.
My chest tightened. The pain in his voice made me feel sick in my stomach. I wanted to pull him into a tight embrace and tell him how much he means to me. Tell him that I never meant to hurt him. That I didn't even understand why I kept doing this.
But the words wouldn't come out. Instead, I said. "I'm not—"
"You always do," he murmured. His voice wasn't accusing, just… hurt. Like this wasn't new to him. Like he had felt this before. More than once.
And that made it worse.
"I don't know what you want from me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Because I was afraid I already knew the answer.
Harley stepped closer. Now there was no space between us. Close enough that I could feel his warmth. Close enough that I couldn't ignore him even if I tried.
"I want you to stop pretending you don't feel anything."
My breath caught. Because that was the one thing I couldn't deny.
"That's not—"
"It is." His voice was firmer now. Not loud. Just certain. Like he wasn't going to let me hide behind excuses anymore.
His hand slid from my wrist to my hand, his fingers threading through mine slowly. My heart pounded against my chest. Every part of me was aware of the contact—like my body had been waiting for this even if my mind wasn't ready.
"Tell me I'm wrong," he said softly. Not challenging. Just asking. Like he needed to hear it—even if it hurt.
I opened my mouth. But the words wouldn't come out. Because he wasn't wrong. And we both knew it. And saying it out loud would make everything real.
The city lights blurred behind him as I looked up into his eyes. Everything felt… too close.
Too real. Too dangerous to ignore anymore.
"Harley…" My voice wavered.
His other hand lifted, brushing lightly against my cheek. The touch was gentle.
Careful. Like he was holding something fragile. Like he knew I might break.
Like he was giving me time to pull away. But I didn't. I didn't want this moment to end. For once, I didn't want to run.
My breath slowed. Then hitched. Then stopped completely as he leaned closer. The world narrowed until there was nothing left but him.
My eyes fluttered shut—
And for a second… I let myself believe this was finally happening. That everything we had been avoiding was finally catching up to us.
But then— My fingers tightened in his. Fear crept in. Too fast for my liking. Sharp. Sudden. Overwhelming.
What if this changes everything? What if I lose him? What if this is the moment that breaks us instead of fixing us?
My eyes snapped open. His lips were inches away from mine. I pulled back.
"Wait." The word came out softer than I expected. But it was enough.
Harley froze. Like the moment shattered right in front of him.
His hand lingered in the air for a second before slowly dropping. Reluctant. Like he didn't want to let go—but had no choice.
Silence fell between us. This time it was heavy. I took another step backwards, staring at the ground. The distance felt colder than before.
"I…" I swallowed. "I can't."
The words felt wrong the moment they left my mouth. But I didn't take them back. Because I didn't know how to fix them once they were said.
Harley looked at me, his expression unreadable. Too still. Too controlled. Like he was holding everything in.
"Why?" he asked quietly. Not angry. Not frustrated. Just… searching.
I looked away. Because I didn't have an answer I was ready to say out loud. Because the truth was too complicated. Too selfish. Too real.
"I just… can't." The distance between us returned.
Not physically— But in every other way. And I hated it. Because I could feel it happening—and I still let it.
Harley exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. The movement was sharp. Controlled. Like he was trying to steady himself.
"I see," he said. But it didn't sound like he did.
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly aware of the cold. Or maybe it wasn't the cold at all.
"We should go," I said softly.
Harley nodded.
"Yeah." His voice was quieter now. Distant in a way it hadn't been before.
We stood there for another second— Neither of us moving. Neither of us looking at each other. Like we were both waiting for something that wasn't going to happen anymore.
Then, without another word, we turned and walked away. And for the first time since we arrived in Paris…
Something between us felt broken. Not shattered. Not gone. But cracked—deep enough that I could feel it with every step we took.