Track Twenty-Three
Daniela's POV
Morning comes softer than she expects.
Arizona light spills through the thin hotel curtains, warm and slow, stretching across the sheets and over your bare shoulder. You're still asleep. One arm draped over her waist. Your fingers curled loosely against her stomach afraid she'd disappear.
She doesn't move.
Last night replays in flashes. Heat. Hands. The way your voice broke at the end.
I love you.
Her chest tightens slightly.
It wasn't whispered like a question. It wasn't thrown carelessly either. It had weight. But weight can mean different things. It can mean promise.
Or panic.
She studies your face while you sleep. You look younger like this. Less guarded. No teasing smirk. No possessive tone. Just... you.
She doesn't feel small this morning. That's new. She doesn't feel like she has to cling to keep you close. Doesn't feel like she has to measure your breathing to see if you're drifting. She just feels aware. Steady.
Her fingers hover over your wrist where it rests against her. Last night she said things too.
I'm yours.
At the time it felt true. It felt safe. But lying here now, in the quiet, she realizes something. She doesn't want to belong to you.
She wants to choose you. There's a difference.
You stir slightly, your grip tightening for a second before your eyes blink open. It takes you a moment to focus. When you see her already watching you, your mouth curves faintly.
"Why're you looking at me like that?" your voice is rough with sleep. She doesn't look away. "Like what?" "Like you're thinking too hard." She almost smiles. Almost.
"Maybe I am."
You shift onto your back, rubbing your face before looking at her again. There's a flicker there. A question you haven't asked yet. You remember. The air changes. Neither of you says it immediately.
Instead you reach for her, tugging gently at her hip. "Come here." She goes. But not the way she usually does. Not melting. Not folding into you like she needs anchoring. She rests against you calmly, her hand settling flat against your chest instead of gripping your side. You notice.
Your hand trails down her back, slower this time. "You okay?" you ask. It's softer than usual. She exhales slowly. "Yeah.".
"You?" You hesitate. And that's the first shift. You're the one thinking now. Her thumb traces absent circles against your skin. Not possessive. Not claiming. Just present.
After a moment, she says it gently. "Did you mean it?" Your body stills slightly beneath her. "Mean what?" She lifts her eyes to yours.
"You know."
Silence stretches between you. Not heavy. Not explosive. Just real. You swallow. "I did," you say, but there's something under it. Something almost uncertain. She studies you carefully. Not accusing. Not scared.
Just grounded. "I don't want it to be something we say when we're scared," she says quietly.
That lands. Your brows pull together. "I wasn't scared.
" She doesn't argue. She just waits. And you realize she's not challenging you.
She's giving you space to tell the truth.
Your hand shifts at her waist, thumb brushing slowly against her skin.
"I think I was," you admit finally. "It was in the moment but I was scared you were pulling away." Her chest tightens — but not in fear this time.
"I was," she says honestly. "A little." Your eyes flicker. "Why?" She doesn't look away.
"Because I don't want to feel like I'm the only one trying all the time."
The room goes quiet again. But this time it doesn't feel like distance.
It feels like something being built instead of avoided.
Your grip on her shifts — not tighter. Just steadier.
"I don't want to own you," you say after a second, voice lower now.
"I just... I don't want to lose you." There it is.
No claiming.
No "mine."
No dominance.
Just fear. She lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "I don't want to be owned," she says gently. "But I want to be with you." You blink slightly at that. "With me?" you repeat. She nods once.
"Not yours. With you."
Something changes in your face. Not defensiveness. Not ego. Understanding. Your forehead rests lightly against hers. "I can do that," you murmur. And for the first time, it doesn't feel like possession. It feels like choice.
Your POV
Daniela searches your face.
"Say it again," she says softly. You blink. "What?" Her hand tightens slightly on your chest. Not desperate. Just steady.
"Last night." Your throat moves when you swallow. You know exactly what she means. You don't hide behind humor this time. Don't deflect.
"I love you," you say again.
Not breathless. Not possessive. Present.
It hits differently now. Slower. Realer. She exhales through her nose, like she'd been bracing without realizing it. "You don't have to say it because you think I'm slipping," she says gently.
"I'm not."
She studies you.
"You were though," she says quietly. "You were scared."
"Yeah," you admit. "I was."
There's something raw about the way you say it. You're not used to that. Not with her.
"Because you pulled back," you continue. "And I didn't know if I was losing you or if I just didn't know how to keep you." That lands harder than anything else. She shifts slightly so she's propped up on one elbow, looking down at you now.
"You don't keep me," she says. "You choose me."
The words are soft. But firm.
You let out a slow breath.
"I'm trying," you admit. "I've never... done this without feeling like I have to grip tighter to make someone stay." Her fingers brush your jaw.
"I don't stay because you grip me," she says. "I stay because I want to." That changes something in your expression. Something almost relieved. "You love me?" you ask, quieter now. No performance. She doesn't hesitate. "Yes."
Simple. Certain.
Not "I'm yours."
Not "only yours."
Just yes. Your hand slides to her waist again, but slower this time. Less claiming. More grounding. "And you're not saying that because you think I need it?" She almost smiles.
"No. I knew i loved you the night i told you no condom...and more that i'm not gonna get into right now." she says smiling a little.
"Oh really Ms. Avanzini. Lemme find out me hitting it ra-" a pillow hits your face.
"Uh Ow." "Good that's what you get" she laughs nudging you in your head.
Silence settles again, but it feels different now. Not fragile. Not thin. Just full. You brush your thumb along her hip.
"I don't want this to just be... intense when we're in the same room," you say carefully. "I don't want to be good at loving you only when I can touch you."
There it is. Growth. Her chest softens at that. "Then don't," she replies. You look at her, waiting "Call me when you're thinking about me," she says. "Not just when I pull away." "Text me first sometimes." You nod slowly. "I can do that."
"And don't say I'm yours," she adds gently. Your brows lift slightly. "Why?"
"I mean during sex it's a little different but in reality I'm not something you own," she says. "I'm someone you get to have."
That hits deeper than she expects it to. You sit up slightly now, pulling her with you so she's straddling your lap. Not dominant. Just closer.
"I don't want to own you," you say again, clearer this time. "I just... I don't want anyone else to have you."She studies your face. "That's not the same thing," she says softly. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Your hands settle at her waist, steady. "So what are we doing?" you ask. No smirk. No teasing tone. Just honest. She thinks for a second. "We're learning," she says. "Learning what?"
"How to love each other without trying to control it." You let that sit. "And we're not just a situation anymore," you add carefully. Her heart kicks slightly at that. "No," she agrees. "We're not." Another pause. You take a breath.
"Okay," you say finally.
You lean forward and kiss her. Not desperate. Not punishing. Not consuming.
Slow.
Intentional. When you pull back, you rest your forehead against hers again. "I love you," you say once more. And this time, neither of you is afraid of what it means.
Alright i just got a great idea for the next part, might be some angst maybe smut again idk but dont think shit all sunshine and daises. LOVE YALL