A Dream Too Real

“Look at me like…” She trailed off, biting her lip as she searched for the words.

“Like you… like you’re thinking about something you’ll never say.”

He didn’t respond right away, and the silence between them felt heavier than ever. When he finally spoke, his voice was so soft she almost didn’t hear it.

“Maybe some things are better left unsaid.”

Her chest tightened.

“That’s such a cop-out, Ronan. You’re such a—”

“What?” He leaned closer, his gaze intense enough to make her pulse race.

“What am I, Zara?”

“You’re infuriating,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of everything she wasn’t saying.

“And you’re a coward.”

He blinked, surprise flashing across his face for just a moment before his expression hardened.

“I’m a coward?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice steadier now. “You act like you care—like you want something

Ronan let out a long breath, running a hand through his already tousled hair. His gaze flickered toward the window, as if the rising sun could offer him an escape from this conversation.

“Oh, Zara. My dear Zara, please don’t start again.”

His voice was low, almost a plea, the words hanging heavy in the air. But there was something more beneath the surface—an exhaustion that stretched beyond the long hours he’d been keeping. Zara could hear the weight of it in the way he said her name, like it was both a sigh of frustration and a plea for understanding. It was the kind of tone that made her heart falter, as if he was trying to hold something back, but the more he suppressed it, the more it seemed to bleed through.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and for a moment, she thought he might just walk away. His posture was stiff, like he was preparing himself for something unpleasant. But then, his eyes found hers—dark and intense, as if they’d come to some silent agreement that the words they had yet to speak were more important than whatever distance he was trying to create.

The intensity in his gaze held her there, frozen, her breath catching in her throat. There was something there, something dangerous in how he looked at her, as if he had already bared more of himself than he ever intended.

“It’s not always about the warmth of a hand resting gently on your own, or the soft brush of lips against skin,” he said, his voice steady, but carrying a weight that made her heart tighten.

“Some feelings aren’t meant to be rushed or reduced to gestures. Sometimes, the way they linger, the way they stay with you long after… that’s what makes them real. That’s what makes them worth holding onto.”

His words sank into her like an anchor, dragging her thoughts to a place she wasn’t ready to visit. The way he said it—so softly, so deeply—shifted the ground beneath her feet. Her fingers curled tighter around the edge of the blanket, needing something to hold onto. But it wasn’t enough to steady her. Nothing ever seemed to be.

Zara wanted to scoff, to pull away from the weight of his words, but she couldn’t. His sincerity, the rawness in his eyes, left her exposed in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and strangely empowered. This wasn’t the man she had always seen—cool, distant, calculating. This was something different. Something she didn’t know how to handle.

Ronan wasn’t finished.

“For me,” he continued, his voice dropping even lower, “you’re not just someone I care about. You’re precious, Zara.” He swallowed, like the words themselves were difficult to release, and when he spoke again, it was with a quiet intensity that made her heart race.

“You’re like this dream I don’t want to end. I’d rather stay lost in it, in you, because waking up—breaking this dream—means losing something I don’t think I’d ever be able to find again.”

Zara’s breath hitched. It wasn’t just the words that shook her, it was the vulnerability in his voice, the way it trembled as he let the wall between them crumble, brick by brick. She could feel his emotions spilling over, raw and unguarded, in a way she had never expected from him. His usual control—so tight, so impenetrable—was slipping away, leaving him open and real, in a way that terrified her.

Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She didn’t know how to respond, or even if she should. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, to brush this moment off like it was nothing. But her body refused to comply. The warmth of his presence, the earnestness in his gaze, pulled her in.

And it was as if time itself had stopped, the world outside their small bubble fading away. It was just the two of them now, caught in the tangled web of unspoken truths and unacknowledged feelings.

For once, Zara didn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

Her throat was tight, the words she wanted to say swirling inside her, but she couldn’t find the courage to speak them. She wanted to ask him why—why now, why her, why this? But the moment felt too fragile for questions. Too delicate. So she just sat there, letting his words wash over her, the weight of them pulling at something inside her she hadn’t been willing to confront until now.

The room felt smaller somehow, as if the space between them had vanished, leaving them standing at the edge of something neither of them was ready to face. The tension in the air was thick with possibilities, with things neither of them was willing to say aloud. But the unspoken words hung between them like a promise, a threat, a question—everything and nothing at once.

Zara wanted to speak, to laugh it off or deflect, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t pretend that what he said didn’t mean something to her, that it didn’t touch a part of her she kept hidden from everyone else.

Ronan stood up, giving her a look that seemed to say more than words could. "I’ll leave, but you know where to find me," he said, his voice steady, but there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip.

"Call me whenever you need to talk… or if you just need someone to be there." He hesitated, like he was trying to figure out how to say it without making things worse.

"I’m not going anywhere, Zara."

With that, he turned toward the door, but not before he threw a quick glance over his shoulder, his usual smirk back in place, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I’ll be around. Don’t hesitate."

And then, just like that, he was gone.