Chapter 90 Stargazing
Hannah
The terrace had finally quieted. The last maid had left with a cheerful wave and a “Good night, Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood!” fading into the estate, leaving only us and the soft hum of the night around us. The jasmine-scented air felt cool on my bare arms, and the glow from the string lights and lanterns softened the edges of the evening. I could hear the faint rustle of leaves in the orchard just beyond, and it seemed like the whole world had slowed down, waiting for… something.
Timothy moved to the telescope, adjusting the tripod with those long, purposeful movements that made my chest tighten every time I watched him work. I leaned against the terrace railing, sipping from my glass of water, and couldn’t help sneaking glances at him as he fussed with the knobs and lenses. His sleeves were rolled up slightly, revealing the firm muscles in his forearms, and I felt a little thrill at the way his body moved naturally, efficiently, and with quiet confidence. There was something magnetic about him; he didn’t have to say a word for me to feel drawn in.
“Okay, so,” he said, finally straightening up, “here’s how it works. You look through the eyepiece, adjust this knob for focus, and this one will move it horizontally and vertically. This dial here is for zooming in and out.” He gestured to each part with precision, his eyes gleaming with the kind of excitement that usually stayed hidden behind his composed exterior.
I nodded, trying to focus on the explanation, but my eyes kept drifting back to him. The way he bent slightly over the scope, the line of his jaw as he concentrated, the faint light catching his hair…it was… distracting, to say the least. My chest felt warm, my pulse quickened, and for the first time that evening, I realized how much I wanted to just be close to him.
I absentmindedly hummed a soft tune under my breath, and he paused mid-adjustment to glance up. “Hey,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching. “What song are you humming?”
“Just… something random,” I mumbled, cheeks heating.
He raised a brow and beckoned me closer with a tilt of his hand. “Come on, show me,” he said softly, almost teasingly.
I stepped over and positioned myself in front of the telescope, my hands gripping the edges nervously. Timothy moved up behind me, so close that I could feel the heat radiating from him. His shadow fell across the terrace like a protective shield, and I felt the brush of his arm against mine.
“Okay,” he murmured, adjusting the focus for me. “Look through here. Now, try this knob, just a little… perfect. Zoom in… good. There, see that? That’s the Orion Nebula.”
I squinted through the eyepiece, blinking as my eyes adjusted. The swirling colors of the nebula shimmered like a distant fire, vast and impossible. I gasped softly, mesmerized.
He leaned even closer, his hand brushing lightly against mine as he guided me. “It’s roughly 1,344 light-years away. Stars being born in real time, millions of years before we existed. Pretty amazing, huh?”
I nodded, my voice a whisper. “It’s… incredible. I can’t believe we’re seeing something so far away… and yet, right here in front of us.”
He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, and adjusted the telescope again. “See that bright one there? That’s Betelgeuse. Red supergiant, nearing the end of its life. Could go supernova any time within the next hundred thousand years. Pretty impressive, huh?”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “I think you like making me feel small, don’t you?”
He chuckled, leaning in closer to adjust the telescope. “Not at all. Just… perspective, Hannah. Perspective is important.”
The more he talked, the more animated he became. He spoke about constellations, planets, black holes, quantum physics in the simplest terms, weaving history and scientific fact into stories that made the stars feel alive. I found myself leaning back occasionally, peeling my eyes from the telescope just to watch him. He was… captivating. Every little movement, every pause, the way his eyes lit up when he got excited,I couldn’t tear myself away.
“I think… I understand,” I said softly at one point, finally daring to speak after a few minutes of listening. “So… the light we see now left those stars years ago. So in a way, we’re seeing the past.”
He turned to me, his expression brightening as if I’d just unlocked some hidden code. “Exactly. You got it. That’s… yes, that’s it perfectly.”
We both paused, breathing a little heavier, just staring at each other. The world seemed impossibly vast, but somehow, just between us on that terrace, it felt intimate, private. I could feel the tension lingering in the space between us, the pull, the magnetism that had been building since the evening began.
I don’t know who moved first, but suddenly, the distance dissolved. Our hands reached instinctively for each other. His warmth met mine, familiar and electrifying, and I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine.
Then, like something inevitable, our lips met. His touch was soft but insistent, claiming and gentle all at once. The kiss was nothing like I’d imagined in private daydreams,it was better, more urgent, more alive. My hands threaded into his hair, feeling the coarse softness, as if grounding myself to the moment.
“God,” he murmured against my lips, and I shivered again, leaning closer.
The telescope, the stars, the terrace,they all faded into the background. There was only him, and the way the world felt like it had been holding its breath, waiting for this. I’d wanted him for so long, and now, here he was, close enough to feel his heartbeat against mine, and it was everything I hadn’t allowed myself to admit I needed.