Estelle's fingers tightened around Roman's arm just as he drew in a breath to speak. Her pulse was roaring in her ears, loud and unsteady, and her grip was almost instinctive as if she was anchoring herself before everything slipped.
Roman paused, looking at her, and something in his gaze cut through the noise. Her heartbeat didn't stop, but it slowed just enough to let her breathe, and he shifted his hand, covering hers where it clutched his arm. His touch was warm, grounding, his thumb brushing lightly once, almost absentminded.
"Trust me," he murmured.
The words were barely there, a whisper meant only for her, and Estelle swallowed. She should have argued, should have pulled back, or insisted they stop this before it spiraled further out of control.
But she didn't, because the way he said it, the calm certainty, the way he stepped into the moment without hesitation? It didn't just calm her, it steadied her. Slowly, her grip on him loosened, her hand settling into his instead.
