Stay Close Mga Nobela at Kwento

He held the new proximity I had set and let the significance of the statement land without reaching for more than had been offered. “Then we narrow it by degrees,” he said. His voice was low, absolute, and carefully free of any pressure that might reopen a distance I had only begun to reduce. “The adjoining rooms can remain available without being required. The main suite remains yours until you indicate otherwise. The notices continue. The term continues. I will not interpret the narrowed distance as a restoration of the previous closeness. You will measure the degrees. I will not request acceleration.” He paused, then added, quieter:

Something quieter. Stronger. Staying. Just like him.

He was standing in the middle of my living room, hands in his pockets, jaw tight in that controlled way I was starting to recognize too easily. “He stood too close,” I said. “Touched my hand. Said something about meaning it personally.” I exhaled. “Nothing I can point to. Nothing that would sound like anything if I said it out loud.” Nate didn’t respond immediately. He just looked at me. “But it felt like something,” he said quietly. “Yes.” His jaw tightened further. He crossed the room slowly and stopped in front of me. Not touching. Just close. “You don’t have to manage it alone,” he said.

But it’s also the only way to protect the people I love. If I stay close, I can control the damage. If I leave, I lose that leverage. Slowly, I lower myself in front of him—not kneeling, but close enough that we’re eye level.

“Even now.” His gaze lingered on my face. “That’s how it’s always been.” “It doesn’t have to be,” I said. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, not forceful, not possessive, and gently closed his hand around my wrist. Not to restrain me. To anchor himself. The contact was brief, controlled, but it sent a quiet shock through both of us. “Staying close to me will put you in danger,” he said. “I know,” I replied. “But being distant already did.”

I push my hand against the cold tile and force myself up, dragging myself away from him, even though my limbs feel like lead. Distance. I need distance. Because he’s an Alpha. And I’m— I grit my teeth. “You should get out now,” I say, voice low and tight. “I’m in a rut. It’d be better for both of us if you left.” I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes on the cracked tile, trying to hold my face together. Trying to hold me together. “It’s not fun, is it?” I whisper. “Watching another Alpha fall apart.”

she started. “I get it. It’s too fast for you. I’ll slow down. I’ll pull back, but I do want to be closer to you. I can’t stand being so far away from you. If you tell me to leave you alone, I will. I will try to do that.”

thank you for being here till now Thank you so much see you soon ❤️

"Let's move to the back." "Ava, sweetheart, what's going on?" Gale's voice sounded confused, but he did as he was told. They were out of the front seats and met again in the backseat. Ava didn't answer, and she immediately straddles Gale's thighs. She sat on his lap and kissed him again, more gently now but still desperate. Gale stopped her and looked her in the eyes. "Baby? What's wrong?" "I just want to be close with you. Please, Gale." Ava pleaded while taking off her coat. "Please,"

Closer. Not just searching. Calling.