CHAPTER 24: Moving In

POV: Selene Castellano

Moving into Avalon’s bedroom felt monumental and absurd at the same time.

Selene stood in the middle of her room, the guest suite she had occupied for six weeks staring at her belongings like they might offer guidance. The space had never fully become hers. It had always felt temporary, like a hotel room she’d stayed in just a little too long. Still, it held the shape of her routines now. The indentation on the mattress. The stack of books by the bedside. The cardigan draped over the chair like she might need it again tomorrow.

It was just things. Clothes. Shoes. A laptop. A handful of framed photos she hadn’t bothered to unpack completely.

Things that could be moved in less than an hour. So why did it feel like crossing a line she couldn’t step back over?

Why did it feel like once she walked out of this room with her suitcase, something fundamental would shift—something that couldn’t be undone?

Her fingers tightened around the handle of her bag.

“Need help?”

She turned.

Avalon stood in the doorway, one shoulder resting lightly against the frame, hands tucked into his pockets. He looked… careful. Like he wasn’t entirely sure if he was intruding.

Like this moment mattered to him too.

“I don’t have much,” she said, gesturing vaguely.

He glanced around the room, taking in the half-packed suitcase, the folded clothes, the quiet traces of her life.

“Still,” he said. “Let me help.”

She hesitated for half a second.

Then nodded.

“Okay.”

They worked in a kind in silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, but wasn’t entirely easy either.

Selene folded clothes she didn’t remember wearing. Packed things she hadn’t realized she’d left out. Her movements were efficient, but her thoughts weren’t.

Every few seconds, she’d catch herself pausing—holding something in her hands and forgetting what she was doing with it.

Avalon didn’t comment.

He just moved steadily through the room, picking up suitcases, stacking boxes, carrying them out one by one like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Like they hadn’t spent the last six weeks orbiting each other from separate rooms.

Like this wasn’t a shift.

Like this wasn’t… everything.

At one point, he picked up her laptop charger from the floor and wrapped it neatly before placing it into her bag.

Something about that—small, practical, thoughtful—hit her harder than it should have.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said softly.

“I know,” he replied.

And kept doing it anyway.

When they stepped into his bedroom or—their bedroom now, the air felt different.

Larger.

Quieter.

More intentional.

Selene had never been inside before.

Not really.

She’d passed by the door, caught glimpses, imagined it, but stepping into it now felt like entering a part of Avalon that had always been closed off.

The room was expansive, clean lines and neutral tones, everything deliberate. The bed dominated the large, structured, almost intimidating space in its precision.

It looked like a place where nothing chaotic was allowed, more like— him.

“I cleared drawers,” Avalon said, setting her suitcase down near the dresser. “The left side of the closet is yours and I also moved some things in the bathroom to make space.”

Selene blinked.

“You… already did all that?”

He shrugged slightly, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“It made sense.”

But it didn’t feel small.

It felt like preparation.

Like intention.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He met her eyes for a second.

“Of course.”

Unpacking felt more intimate than packing.

Taking things out. Placing them into his space. Letting her presence settle into corners that had only ever held him.

Selene opened drawers slowly, almost cautiously, like she was afraid something might shift if she moved too quickly.

She placed her clothes beside his.

Folded her shirts next to his structured rows.

Her softer fabrics against his sharper edges.

It felt symbolic in a way she couldn’t quite articulate.

Behind her, Avalon moved through the room, adjusting things, making space without making it obvious he was doing so.

At one point, their hands brushed near the dresser.

They both pulled back slightly.

“Sorry,” they said at the same time.

Selene let out a quiet breath that almost turned into a laugh.

“This is… strange.”

“Yeah,” Avalon said. “It is.”

A pause.

Then—

“Selene.”

She turned.

He gestured toward the bed, then stopped halfway through the motion, like he didn’t know how to finish the thought.

“We don’t have to…” he started, then tried again. “I mean, sharing the room is one thing. But we can set boundaries. Separate sides. Space. Whatever you need.”

She studied him.

Not the words—but what was underneath them.

Care.

Caution.

Fear.

“What do you need?” she asked.

The question seemed to catch him off guard.

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Honestly?” he said after a moment. “I don’t know. This is… new.”

“For both of us.”

“Yeah.”

Selene exhaled slowly.

“Maybe we don’t decide everything right now,” she said. “Maybe we just… see how it goes. No pressure. No expectations. Just… coexist and figure it out as we go.”

Avalon considered that.

Then nodded.

“I can do that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The awkwardness lingered—but it wasn’t unbearable.

Just… real.

That night, bedtime felt like a performance neither of them had rehearsed.

Selene took longer than necessary in the bathroom, brushing her teeth twice, adjusting her hair, changing into the softest, most neutral clothes she owned.

Nothing too revealing.

Nothing too decent.

A careful middle ground she wasn’t entirely sure how to define.

When she stepped back into the room, Avalon was already in bed.

Propped against the headboard, tablet in hand, posture deliberately relaxed—but not relaxed enough to be convincing.

He glanced up when she entered, then immediately looked back at the screen.

Giving her space.

Or pretending to.

She crossed to her side of the bed.

Climbed in.

The mattress shifted slightly beneath her weight.

And suddenly—

Everything felt amplified.

The distance between them.

The sound of his breathing.

The faint rustle of fabric as he adjusted his position.

The bed was enormous.

They could sleep here without touching once.

So why did it feel like every nerve in her body was aware of exactly where he was?

“Comfortable?” Avalon asked after a moment.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Silence.

It stretched.

Then—

“Avalon?”

“Yeah?”

“This is weird, right? It’s not just me?”.

Then he laughed.

Soft. Real. Relieved.

“It’s extremely weird.”

Selene smiled into the darkness.

“Okay. Good. Just checking.”

He set the tablet aside, the screen going dark.

Then turned slightly toward her.

“We’ll adjust,” he said. “Give it time.”

“How much time?”

“As much as we need.”

She nodded, even though he probably couldn’t see it.

That helped.

More than she expected.

“Avalon?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

She hesitated.

“Why did you say yes?”

“To what?”

“To this. Sharing the room. You could have said no. Could have told Diana we’d find another way.”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Selene waited.

Finally……

“Because she’s right,” he said quietly.

“About?”

“About us staying in this in-between space. Half-committing. Half-protecting ourselves.” A pause. “It’s not working.”

Selene swallowed.

“And?”

“And…” he exhaled slowly, “because I want this.”

The words landed softly—but heavily.

“You,” he added. “Us.”

Her chest tightened.

“And keeping separate rooms felt like… an exit. Like something I could use if things got too hard.”

“In case what?” she asked gently.

“In case you left again,” he said.

The honesty in it made her breath catch.

“In case it hurt too much,” he continued. “In case I couldn’t handle it.”

Silence.

“But I don’t want that anymore,” he said. “I don’t want an escape hatch. I want to be… all in.”

Selene stared at the ceiling, her vision blurring slightly.

“Me too,” she whispered.

A pause.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

They lay there in the dark. Not touching.

But not as far apart as before.

Closer.

In a way that wasn’t just physical.

Selene focused on the rhythm of his breathing.

Steady.

Grounding.

Familiar in a way that surprised her.

Her body slowly began to relax.

The tension she’d been carrying all day—the quiet, constant awareness slowly started to ease.

“Avalon?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trying,” she said. “For not… shutting this down when it got complicated.”

A small smile played on his lips and he said….

“Same to you,” 

“Goodnight, Avalon.”

“Goodnight, Selene.”

She expected to lie awake. To overthink every movement, every breath, every inch of space between them.

Instead—

Her thoughts quieted.

Slowly.

Gradually.

Until the last thing she registered was the steady presence of him beside her. Just there….

And for the first time in a long time—

Selene fell asleep without bracing herself for what might come next.

Safe

Across the bed, Avalon stared at the ceiling long after her breathing evened out.

He could feel her there.

Everything in him was hyper-aware.

The instinct to reach for her, to pull back,  to protect,  to run or all at once.

He exhaled slowly.

Closed his eyes. Then…..

Dr. Morrison’s voice echoed faintly in his head.

Stop trying to control the outcome.

Just be there.

So he did.

He stayed. In the quiet. In the uncertainty.

In the space between what they had been and what they might become.

Selene shifted slightly in her sleep, her hand brushing the space between them.

Avalon froze.

Then slowly and carefully he let his hand rest there too.

It’s nothing much for now but that was enough.