Page 74 of First Echo

"Loveisn't a label," she continued, the word 'love' hanging in the air between us, heavy with implication. "It's a choice. A terrifying, inconvenient, impossible choice. And I'd rather be chosen by someone who's scared than ignored by someone who's sure."

I blinked hard, sudden emotion burning behind my eyes. Her words cut straight through my defenses, laying bare fearsI hadn't fully articulated even to myself. She saw me—really saw me—in a way no one else ever had. Not my parents with their rigid expectations, not my friends with their superficial concerns, not even Sam with his genuine affection. Brooke saw past the image to the messy, uncertain girl beneath, and somehow, impossibly, she still wanted me.

"But what if I figure it out and I'm not what you need?" I asked, the question barely above a whisper.

Brooke held my gaze for a long moment, something fierce and tender warring in her expression.

"Then we'll deal with it if it happens," she said finally.

"I'm not here because you're perfect, Maddie. I'm here because you'rereal. And because, for once, I don't want to run away from something that actually matters."

The nickname sent a warm flutter through my chest, somehow more intimate than anything we'd shared in the darkness of our room. Coming from her lips, it felt like a gift, a claim, a bridge between who I pretended to be and who I actually was.

"Brooke..." I whispered, unable to articulate the swell of emotion her words had caused.

She looked away, her jaw tightening slightly in that way I'd come to recognize as her trying to maintain control, to not show too much vulnerability.

"I'm not asking you to fix anything," she said, her voice rougher now.

"I just—I want something that doesn't feel like I'm holding my breath the whole time, waiting for it to end."

Silence settled between us, not awkward or tense, but weighted with shared understanding. This wasn't just about last night, about physical attraction or momentary passion. This was about something deeper, something that had been buildingsince that first day in the tutoring center, perhaps even before—a recognition, a connection that defied easy categorization.

I reached for her hand, my gloved fingers interlacing with hers.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said, meaning it more than I'd meant anything in a long time.

Brooke didn't say anything for a moment, her eyes fixed on our joined hands.

Then, softly: "You say that now."

The doubt in her voice broke my heart, reminding me of everything she'd shared about her mom, about how people had drifted away after her death, about the walls she'd built to protect herself from more loss. I leaned in, my forehead resting gently against hers, needing the physical connection, needing her to feel the truth of my words.

"I've never been sure of anything in my life," I admitted, my voice barely audible in the small space between us. "But I've never felt moremethan I do when I'm with you. And thatmeanssomething to me"

I hesitated, then added: "I don't want to hide this forever. I don't want it to be something I only get to have when no one else is looking."

The admission surprised even me. I'd spent so long carefully managing my image, my reputation, that the thought of openly acknowledging whatever this was—this thing with Brooke, this version of myself I was only just discovering—should have terrified me. And it did, in a way. But the thought of keeping it hidden, of relegating it to shadows and secrets, felt even worse.

Brooke nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Then maybe we don't hide. Not really. Just... keep it ours. Until we're ready for more."

It wasn't a perfect solution, but it felt like a promise—a commitment to something real, something that could grow at itsown pace, outside the expectations and judgments of others. I nodded, relief washing through me.

"Even if I fall apart?" I asked, the question exposing the vulnerability I usually tried so hard to conceal.

"Especially then," Brooke said softly, her voice a caress.

She kissed me then—not with the desperate heat of last night, but with something gentler, more grounding. A promise, a reassurance, a connection that transcended physical desire. I melted into it, my hands coming up to frame her face, holding her close as if I could somehow imprint this moment into my skin, make it a permanent part of me.

"I don't know what I am," I whispered against her lips, the confession both terrifying and liberating.

"But I know I wantyou.Ineed you.”

Brooke pulled me in tighter, her arms strong and sure around me.

"Then that's enough for me," she murmured, her breath warm against my skin.

---