Her eyes flicked up to meet his—and the room seemed to shrink, every sound dimming around them. The TV faded into background noise. The cold from the ice cream barely registered anymore.

"I... I cannot..." Ivy’s gaze dropped to the ice cream bowl she still held.

"Shhhh." Winn leaned forward, his fingers gently brushing the trembling of her hands before he took the bowl from her and set it carefully on the coffee table.

Then he moved closer, the space between them shrinking until the warmth from his body radiated into hers. "You loved me like no one ever did," he murmured. "So mean it right now... just like you meant it when you loved me."

Every nerve in her body seemed to buzz with electricity. She bit her lower lip hard, a tiny, involuntary gesture that made Winn’s gaze snap to her mouth, eyes darkening.

He leaned just a fraction closer, enough that she could feel the brush of his breath across her cheek.

"Ivy... do you want me to beg?" he whispered. "To beg you to give this a chance... I will." He inched closer, and her knees felt weak, her pulse thundering in her ears.

"No..." She could feel the vulnerability in the space between them, the way the night held its breath with them.

"Ivy..." Winn closed the distance, until the warmth of his body pressed against hers, their breaths mingling. Then, ever so gently, he captured her lips with his in a kiss that was slow, careful, and impossibly tender—the softest they had ever shared.

Her lips moved against his.

When he finally pulled away, Winn didn’t retreat. Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers, eyes soft, earnest, seeking. "Please," he whispered.

Every inch of him seemed to be asking, pleading, demanding that she stop guarding her heart so fiercely.

Ivy’s pulse raced, her chest tight, every part of her aching for him even as her mind screamed to stay guarded.

She wanted to surrender entirely, to let the floodgate open and fall into the warmth of him again. But part of her—stubborn, terrified, protective of the fragments of herself she had left—couldn’t.

So she dangled hope. She tilted her head slightly, letting her lips hover close to his without actually touching. Her eyes, wide and shimmering with unshed tears, locked onto his. "Not yet," she whispered, barely audible.

Her fingers twitched near his chest, brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

"What are we waiting for?" Winn asked. His eyes roamed her face.

"I have to put a few things in place," she murmured.

"I’ll help you," Winn said.

"I have to do this myself," Ivy insisted, a sharp edge in her voice that barely masked the tremor in her chest. He made to pull away, to put some distance between them, to regain the last shreds of his composure.

Ivy reached up, fingers tangling in his hair, and pulled him back to her. Their lips collided in a kiss that was urgent and desperate this time, everything unsaid and unresolved pouring into that single contact.

Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt as if guided by instinct, pressing against him.

Winn didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers worked on the buttons faster than she could. The shirt came off in a flurry, tossed aside. He captured her lips again, then moved down to her neck, nipping gently, inhaling her scent, pressing into her.

His hands traced the curves of her body, slipping beneath the soft fabric of her nightdress to cup her breasts, eliciting a low moan from her lips.

Ivy writhed beneath him, twisting, arching, searching for more, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the taste of him in every stolen breath.

Then he pulled away just enough to unbuckle his pants. The anticipation in his eyes, the taut muscles in his shoulders, and the tension in his jaw made her pulse spike again.

"Do you have protection?" Ivy asked suddenly.

"What?" Winn’s brows shot up in surprise. "What... what do we need that for?" he chuckled. His eyes swept over her.

"Well," Ivy said, teasing now despite the rapid beating of her heart, "you know... protection..." She arched one eyebrow, giving him a small, pointed smile.

"From what? You think I’m gonna give you STDs?" Winn asked, one brow arched.

"No... no... not... I... against getting...." Ivy stammered, her fingers gripping the blanket around her.

"Getting pregnant?" Winn asked, suddenly calm, removing his hands from his belt and letting them rest casually at his sides.

"Well... yeah!" Ivy admitted.

Winn ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. "I’m not fucking you until you are ready to."

"What does that mean?" she asked, sitting up straighter.

"I’m yours. Totally," he said. "Every inch of me is yours, Ivy, and I’m not going to throw a bit of who I am—and what we could be—down the toilet."

"Stop being a child," Ivy snapped.

"I want to be a child! Fuck!" Winn barked, throwing his hands up, frustration and longing intertwining in the gesture. "This... this isn’t about pregnancy, Ivy. It isn’t. You’re just still looking for an excuse to run again!"

"To run?! Are you insane?! I didn’t run! I..." Ivy’s chest tightened painfully. She opened her mouth to speak, nearly spilling the truth, before she caught herself, closing her lips just in time. Her gaze dropped to the floor, then back to him.

"You what?" Winn pressed, confusion knitting his brows together. Every flicker of doubt, every hesitant movement she made, shredded him a little more. He could feel the walls she had built around herself.

"Yeah... you are right. I did run."

The woman in front of him was a paradox: tender and fierce, stubborn and vulnerable, honest and deceptive all at once. He rubbed his face with a hand, exhaling slowly, trying to process the whirlwind she had created around him.

He knew she was lying about some things, but the lines blurred so much that he couldn’t tell where her excuses ended and her fear began.

(New week: 1st 100 power stones for an additional Chapter. Can we get to 1000?)