As afternoon melted into evening, the day drifted quietly. Rachel played with her blocks on the floor, humming something tuneless, while Bella started dinner. Lucas joined her, chopping vegetables without needing to be asked.
"You're surprisingly efficient in the kitchen," she teased.
"I like watching you cook," he admitted simply. "Feels… peaceful."
Bella glanced at him, unsure what to say, so she only smiled faintly and kept stirring. The air between them stayed soft and wordless—filled with the comfort of two people who didn't need to fill silence with anything.
Dinner was cozy. Rachel talked endlessly about her plans to become a fairy princess, and Lucas promised to build her a castle if she studied well. Bella rolled her eyes at both of them but smiled the whole time.
Afterward, Rachel insisted on watching her favorite cartoon. Lucas carried the plates to the sink, and when Bella tried to follow, he stopped her with a quiet, "I've got it."
"You'll mess up the order," she said, amused.
"I'll take my chances."
So she stayed beside him anyway, handing him the washed dishes while he wiped them dry. Their elbows brushed once, then again—each touch quiet and electric. Somehow, the simple act of cleaning up together felt more intimate than words ever could.
Later, Bella went to Rachel's room. She tucked her in gently, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. Rachel stirred, murmuring, "Goodnight, Mama… goodnight, Dada…" before slipping back into sleep.
Bella lingered there for a moment, her heart full and strangely heavy all at once.
When she returned to the living room, Lucas was sitting on the couch, the TV muted, his gaze distant. The lamp light cast his face in soft gold and shadow.
"Rachel's asleep," she said quietly.
He nodded, looking up at her. "You always make everything look so easy."
"It's not," she said with a small smile, sitting beside him. "But somehow, it feels easy when you're here."
Something shifted then—fragile, slow, inevitable. The noise of the world outside faded until only their breathing remained.
He didn't move. Neither did she. But the silence had changed; it felt like the kind that came before something you couldn't undo.
Her gaze drifted to his hand beside hers, the faint brush of his sleeve against her arm sending a quiet shiver through her. She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
Lucas turned slightly, close enough that she could see the curve of his lashes when he blinked. He studied her the way he always did—as if she were the only thing that existed.
"Bella…" His voice was low, rough at the edges. "You make this feel… dangerous."
Her breath hitched. "Dangerous?"
He nodded, leaning in. "Because if I touch you now, I'm not sure I'll stop."
She should've said something sensible—reminded him Rachel was asleep, or that this was too soon—but her heart was louder than reason.
He lifted a hand slowly, giving her space to pull away. She didn't. His fingers brushed her cheek, tracing a line that felt like both a promise and a question.
Her lashes fluttered. "Lucas…"
"Shh," he murmured, his thumb resting near the corner of her mouth. "Let me…"
And then he kissed her.
At first, it was barely there—a whisper of touch, hesitant, searching. The kind of kiss that asked rather than took. But when she didn't move away—when her lips trembled and then yielded slightly—something in him gave way.
He kissed her again, slower, deeper, careful but certain. The air seemed to hum around them. Her hand rose instinctively, pressing against his chest, feeling the steady, strong rhythm beneath her palm.
Lucas tilted his head, deepening the kiss just enough to make her breath catch—then stopped, resting his forehead against hers. Both of them breathed in the same quiet air, hearts stumbling into sync.
Bella's cheeks were flushed, her eyes dazed and soft. "Lucas…" she whispered.
He smiled faintly, voice low and unsteady. "You have no idea how hard it is not to lose control around you."
"You shouldn't say things like that," she managed.
"Why not?"
"Because…" Her gaze fell. "Because you make me forget how to breathe when you do."
He studied her for a long second, eyes softer than she'd ever seen. Then he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"I don't ever want you to forget to breathe, mia cara," he murmured. "Just… breathe with me."
Her heart fluttered at the words—simple, tender, too full of meaning.
He pressed a featherlight kiss to her forehead, sealing something unspoken between them. Then he stood, his tone gentler than she'd ever heard.
"Let's go to sleep, Bella," he said quietly. "Before I do something I'll spend the night regretting."
She nodded, still lost in the haze of what just happened. And when he turned to leave, a faint smile curved her lips—shy, uncertain, but real.
Because for the first time, she realized something terrifying and beautiful.
It wasn't just his care she wanted.
It was him.