It wasn't supposed to feel easier.
That was the first thing Lena noticed, and the one thing she couldn't seem to ignore no matter how hard she tried.
Nothing about this situation should have been settling into something familiar.
Not the room.
Not the man standing across from her.
And definitely not the quiet, steady pull that had taken root somewhere deep in her chest.
Yet—
it had.
Lena stood near the window, her gaze drifting over the city lights without really focusing on anything. The world outside moved the way it always did—cars passing, lights shifting, distant movement that suggested life going on as normal.
But it didn't feel normal anymore.
Not to her.
She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing lightly against the glass before dropping back to her side.
"…This is getting worse," she said quietly.
"No."
She didn't even turn at that.
Of course that was his answer.
A faint, almost tired smile touched her lips for a second before fading. "You really don't change your responses, do you?"
"It wouldn't change the truth."
"Yeah," she muttered. "I'm starting to realize that."
The words didn't carry the same resistance they would have before.
That alone made her pause.
Because that was new.
Lena pushed herself away from the window and turned, leaning lightly against the edge of the wall as she looked at him properly.
"You know what's strange?" she asked.
He didn't respond.
He never did unless he needed to.
"I'm not even trying to argue anymore," she continued. "A few hours ago, I would've called this insane and walked out."
"You tried."
Her jaw tightened slightly. "That's not the point."
"It is."
She let out a breath through her nose, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"Yes."
That answer came just as easily.
And for some reason—
that almost made her laugh.
Not fully.
Not out loud.
But enough that she felt it.
"…That's not normal," she said.
"No."
Another silence followed, but this one didn't stretch the way it used to. It didn't press against her, didn't make her feel like she needed to fill it.
It just… existed.
And so did she.
Lena straightened slightly and began to move, slow steps across the room without direction. It wasn't about going anywhere.
It was about thinking.
About feeling something other than this strange stillness settling inside her.
But then—
she moved too far.
The pull tightened.
Immediate.
Noticeable.
Not painful, but firm enough to make her stop.
Her breath caught slightly.
"…Okay," she said under her breath. "Yeah. That's still there."
"Yes."
She glanced back at him, her brows pulling together faintly. "You don't even need to check, do you?"
"No."
"That's unsettling."
"It's consistent."
"That's not better."
"It is."
She let out a quiet breath, her hand lifting briefly to press against her chest as if that would help her understand it.
It didn't.
It just made her more aware of it.
"…It's stronger," she admitted.
"Yes."
Of course.
There was no hesitation in his answers.
No doubt.
Just certainty.
Lena stayed where she was for a second longer, then slowly stepped forward again.
The tension eased.
Her shoulders dropped slightly.
And that—
that made her still.
"…I did that without thinking," she said.
"You will."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's not meant to be."
She shook her head lightly, though there was no real frustration behind it anymore.
Just awareness.
Slow, quiet awareness.
"…So what, I just stay close to you and everything feels normal?" she asked.
"Yes."
"That sounds like a problem."
"It depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you keep resisting it."
She held his gaze for a second longer.
Then looked away.
"…Right."
Because that was the part she didn't want to think about.
The fact that resisting it wasn't working.
The fact that she wasn't even trying as hard anymore.
Lena folded her arms loosely, though it felt more like habit than defense now.
"This doesn't feel forced," she said quietly.
"No."
"That's the problem."
"It isn't."
She let out a small breath, something softer than frustration.
"You really believe that."
"Yes."
Of course he did.
Lena glanced down briefly, then back up again.
And for the first time—
she didn't step away.
Not because she couldn't.
But because she didn't.
And that—
that was what unsettled her the most.