207am
The Plaza Hotel, New York
The elevator ride upstairs felt dangerously quiet.
Not awkward.
Just charged.
Leah stood beside Elle with her hands buried in her coat pockets like she physically didn't trust herself otherwise. Their shoulders brushed every few seconds as the elevator climbed higher through the hotel.
Neither had stopped smiling since the bookstore.
Which honestly felt a little ridiculous.
"You realise," Elle murmured lightly, "this is exactly how every romance movie starts."
Leah glanced sideways at her. "Pretty sure romance movies skip the part where one girl nearly dislocated her knee getting into a taxi."
Elle laughed softly. "True. Less glamorous."
The elevator doors opened onto Leah's floor.
Suddenly the nerves returned.
Elle felt them immediately beside her — subtle, but there. Leah touching her rings again. Slight tension in her shoulders. That carefulness creeping back in.
Interesting.
Because Leah flirted confidently.
But intimacy? Real intimacy?
That clearly scared her more.
The hallway was quiet as they walked toward Leah's room. Soft carpet beneath their shoes. Golden lighting. Snow still falling outside the long windows overlooking Manhattan.
Leah stopped outside the door and looked over at her.
"You can still change your mind," she said quietly.
Elle's chest tightened slightly.
There it was again.
That gentleness.
The constant checking.
"No," Elle said softly. "I really can't."
Something warm flickered across Leah's face at that.
She opened the door.
The suite was beautiful in that expensive New York hotel way — warm lighting, massive windows, cream furniture untouched by actual human life.
But the second the door shut behind them, none of that mattered anymore.
Because suddenly there was no city noise.
No distractions.
No crowded streets or bookstores or hotel bars.
Just them.
Alone.
The tension shifted instantly.
Heavier now.
More obvious.
Leah dropped her room key onto the table and exhaled slowly, almost nervously.
"This suddenly feels very real."
Elle stepped closer carefully. "Yeah?"
Leah laughed quietly under her breath. "You make me forget how to act like a normal person."
"That's alright," Elle murmured. "I don't think I'm acting normal either."
For a second neither moved.
Then Leah reached for her again.
This kiss felt different immediately.
Less tentative.
The restraint from the bookstore dissolved almost instantly as Elle's hands slid up into Leah's hair, pulling her closer. Leah let out the softest sound against her mouth that nearly ruined her on the spot.
God.
Everything about this felt overwhelming in the best way.
Weeks of tension and late-night conversations and wanting suddenly had somewhere to go.
Leah backed her gently toward the edge of the sofa without breaking the kiss, hands settling carefully at her waist like she still couldn't quite believe this was happening.
"You have any idea," Leah murmured breathlessly against her mouth, "how difficult the last two months have been?"
Elle smiled slightly. "You survived."
"Barely."
Their kisses deepened again, slower now but infinitely more intense.
The chemistry between them in person was terrifying.
Not just attraction.
Comfort too.
That was the dangerous part.
The way Leah instinctively pulled her closer. The way Elle already knew the small expressions on Leah's face. The way every touch felt familiar despite being completely new.
Eventually they pulled apart just enough to breathe.
Leah rested her forehead lightly against Elle's shoulder, laughing softly under her breath.
"You smell really good."
Elle grinned immediately. "That's your line?"
"I'm trying my best here."
"You're doing alright."
Leah looked up then, close enough their noses brushed slightly.
And suddenly the teasing faded.
Her expression softened completely.
"You're even better than I thought you'd be," she admitted quietly.
The honesty of it hit hard.
Because Leah meant things when she said them.
Elle touched her face gently, thumb brushing along her jaw.
"So are you."
For a moment the room felt still around them.
Snow falling silently beyond massive windows. Manhattan glowing beneath winter skies.
And somewhere between London and New York, between rehab sessions and Instagram replies and months of late-night conversations, something real had formed here.
Something neither of them knew how to stop anymore.
Leah kissed her again slowly, hand sliding into hers this time.
Not rushed.
Not careless.
Just close.
Like neither of them wanted the night to end.