Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taking Risks

The afternoon air was brisk as Aaliyah stepped into the café, already filled with the quiet hum of conversation, the clink of mugs, the soft rustle of pages turning. She was early—nearly an hour early. Sitting still at the hotel had felt unbearable, and so she’d left, letting the pull of the city around her lead her here. There was something defiant in choosing to wait out in the open for Cruz, as if, in this small way, she was allowing herself to step into something new.

She settled into a corner, pulling out her iPad to scroll through listings for apartments or houses. Her fingers moved mechanically over the screen, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d chosen options in the neighborhood Cruz had casually mentioned, but the details slipped past her; her mind was only half there. The other half lingered on the quiet anticipation of seeing Cruz again, wondering how she’d ended up here, waiting for this woman who’d so easily slipped past her defenses.

And then, suddenly, there she was—Cruz, moving through the café with an easy confidence, her gaze scanning the room until it found her. Aaliyah’s breath caught, her pulse quickening as Cruz’s smile softened, warm, drawing her in without a word. She felt a familiar mix of nerves and something new—a thrill she hadn’t expected.

Cruz slid into the seat opposite, her eyes warm and steady as they held Aaliyah’s, a quiet smile playing on her lips. “Hi,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, the word lingering between them with a softness that seemed to settle the air. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing Aaliyah’s hand, resting there, waiting, an unspoken invitation rather than a demand.

Aaliyah’s gaze dropped to the unexpected contact, her pulse quickening at the warmth of Cruz’s palm against her skin. A flicker of instinct urged her to pull back, to let the familiar caution take over. But something about the gentle way Cruz’s fingers lay there, open and patient, made her hesitate. Slowly, almost without realizing, she turned her hand, her own fingers finding their way into the spaces between Cruz’s, their touch delicate, tentative.

She lifted her gaze, meeting Cruz’s again, the sunlight catching in her eyes, giving them a quiet brightness. The moment felt suspended, the sounds of the café fading away, leaving just the two of them. Her lips parted, a small, tentative smile curving as she breathed out a soft, “Hi,” the word carrying the tremor of something new and unspoken.

For a moment, they sat like that, fingers loosely intertwined, the quiet warmth between them settling her nerves. Their conversation began to flow easily—moments of shared laughter woven with pauses that felt as natural as breathing. Cruz’s openness had a way of drawing her in, leaving her caught between caution and a quiet captivation, as if each glance was an invitation she wasn’t sure how to answer.

Just as Cruz was describing a hidden part of the city she loved, her phone buzzed. She glanced down, a small crease forming on her brow as she gave Aaliyah an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, regret threading through her tone. “It’s work—I’ll be just a minute.”

Aaliyah nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile as she watched Cruz step outside to take the call. She found her gaze lingering, tracing the confident ease in Cruz’s movements, the quiet authority in the way she gestured as she spoke. Aaliyah’s heart stirred, caught between admiration and an unspoken yearning, struck by how Cruz seemed both composed and inviting—a contrast to the tangled emotions Aaliyah herself felt.

When Cruz returned, she slipped back into her seat with a soft apology in her eyes. “I’m sorry about that,” she said, her voice gentle, the ease in her smile still there but touched with something more thoughtful. “Sometimes I wish work didn’t follow me everywhere.”

Aaliyah smiled back, though she instinctively drew her hand back, wrapping her fingers around her cup as if to anchor herself. “It’s okay,” she replied, her tone light, her gaze momentarily drifting to the table before lifting again to meet Cruz’s. Despite the quiet pull she felt, a cautious voice reminded her of the boundaries she wasn’t quite ready to cross.

Cruz seemed to sense her subtle retreat, her expression softening with a kind of understanding that eased Aaliyah’s lingering tension. She didn’t press, didn’t ask or prod, but simply left space, creating a gentle rhythm between them that didn’t ask more than Aaliyah was willing to give. In that unspoken acceptance, Aaliyah felt something reassuring, a quiet realization that whatever was forming here didn’t have to be hurried. It would shape itself, in time.

After a beat, Cruz tilted her head slightly, watching her with a thoughtful curiosity, as if she could sense the delicate threads Aaliyah still held tightly. “How about a change of scenery?” she offered, her tone soft. “Central Park’s close by. I could show you around… if you’re up for it?”

Aaliyah felt her heart skip, her instincts whispering to keep her distance, to remain within the safe lines she’d drawn. But as she looked into Cruz’s eyes—open, patient, quietly inviting—she felt a thread of her own hesitation unraveling. Against her better judgment, she found herself nodding.

“I’d like that,” she replied, the words surprising her as they fell, gentle but certain.

Minutes later, they moved side by side through the park, their footsteps falling naturally into rhythm. With each step, the air between them grew charged with a delicate tension, filled with lingering touches—fingers brushing arms, hands grazing as they pointed out something in the distance. Aaliyah found herself stealing glances at Cruz, her heart quickening each time their eyes met, feeling a quiet thrill as Cruz’s gaze lingered a moment longer than expected.

A light touch on her shoulder as they maneuvered around a low-hanging branch, a shared laugh as their arms brushed, these moments felt like unspoken invitations, gently drawing them closer. The careful distance Aaliyah had kept between them softened, her guard slipping in the easy flow of Cruz’s presence.

Finally, they arrived at a small bench nestled under the shade of a sprawling oak, hidden from the main paths. Cruz gestured to it, a silent offer, and Aaliyah sat down, feeling a quiet anticipation settle in the space between them as Cruz took the seat beside her.

They sat in companionable silence, watching as dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting patterns around them. Aaliyah’s heart beat steadily, her gaze flicking to Cruz, who seemed to be studying her with a soft, gentle intensity. The corner of Cruz’s mouth lifted in a slight smile, her presence both reassuring and captivating. The air between them felt thick, charged with unspoken words and questions hovering just out of reach.

After a moment, Cruz leaned in slightly, her movements measured and unhurried. With a tenderness that made Aaliyah’s breath catch, Cruz reached out, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Aaliyah’s face, tucking it carefully behind her ear. Aaliyah closed her eyes at the touch, savoring the delicate brush of Cruz’s fingertips, letting herself be completely in the moment.

When she opened her eyes, Cruz was still close, her gaze steady, filled with a quiet patience that seemed to settle between them. Her voice was soft, a gentle murmur that hung in the air. “I… I’d like to kiss you, Alyssia.”

The sound of the name made Aaliyah’s heart stutter, a small discomfort stirring within her. She wanted Cruz to know her real name, to call her by the name that felt true, but the moment was too fragile, too perfect to change. For now, she let the thought pass, allowing herself to be drawn in by Cruz’s presence, by the tenderness in her gaze.

Her cheeks warmed, her pulse quickening as she looked up, meeting Cruz’s eyes. There was no pressure, only a quiet sincerity waiting for her answer, offering her the choice.

Aaliyah’s gaze softened, her breath barely a whisper as she nodded, a small, tentative smile touching her lips. She leaned in, letting the world around them fade as Cruz closed the remaining distance.

Their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss, filled with an unspoken yearning that had simmered beneath the surface, tender and tentative. Cruz’s touch was light against her cheek, her fingers tracing softly along Aaliyah’s jaw, anchoring her to the moment, allowing her heart to speak where words had fallen short.

For a moment, everything else faded—the worries, the doubts, the ache of holding back—and all that remained was the softness of Cruz’s lips, a quiet promise of something new, unhurried and deeply felt.

As they pulled back, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the shared silence that felt like a gentle, unspoken secret. Aaliyah opened her eyes, a genuine smile spreading across her lips, feeling something awaken within her that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in so long.

Cruz’s gaze held hers, a depth and understanding reflecting back at Aaliyah. And in that quiet closeness, Aaliyah felt the weight of something unspoken, a truth just on the edge of her lips, waiting to be shared.

Barely above a whisper, she said, “Alyssia isn’t my real name.”

Cruz’s brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across her face, but she didn’t pull back. Instead, she stayed close, her gaze unwavering, her hand still resting softly against Aaliyah’s cheek. After a moment, Cruz broke the silence, her voice gentle and reassuring. “You don’t have to share anything you’re not ready to. I just… hope you know that.”

The words carried such sincerity that Aaliyah felt her own defenses ease in a way she hadn’t expected. She met Cruz’s gaze, finding the same quiet understanding there, an unspoken invitation to take things at her own pace.

Aaliyah took a slow, unsteady breath, her heart racing as she looked away briefly, watching how the light filtered softly through the leaves around them. She wanted to speak, to let the truth spill out, but her thoughts felt tangled, held back by a mix of hesitation and fear. Yet the desire to tell Cruz, to let her in, grew stronger, pressing against her heart.

She looked back at Cruz, her voice soft but sure. “But… I want to tell you.”

Cruz’s expression softened further, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Then tell me,” she murmured, her voice threaded with gentle playfulness, “what’s your real name, beautiful stranger?”

The words sent a soft thrill through Aaliyah, a quiet rush she hadn’t felt in so long. She took a steadying breath, grounding herself in the closeness they shared, and allowed the truth to slip free, her voice almost a whisper. “Aaliyah… my name is Aaliyah.”

Cruz’s smile widened, the name settling between them like a gentle promise. “Aaliyah,” she repeated softly, savoring the sound, her hand brushing tenderly along Aaliyah’s cheek. Her voice was warm, genuine. “Thank you, for trusting me, Aaliyah.”

The words wrapped around her, soft and reassuring, filling the space between them. She felt a quiet peace settle within her—a calm she hadn’t allowed herself in a long time. Cruz’s understanding, her patience, made Aaliyah feel that, just maybe, she could let her guard down here.

In the silence that followed, Aaliyah’s gaze lingered on Cruz, an unspoken invitation sparking between them. She leaned forward, her hand finding Cruz’s cheek, her thumb tracing the soft line of her bottom lip. This time, Aaliyah closed the space between them, her lips meeting Cruz’s with a quiet, tender certainty—a kiss that carried gratitude, a quiet promise, and newfound bravery.

Cruz responded, her hand resting lightly against Aaliyah’s back, drawing her closer. They shared a series of lingering kisses, unhurried and soft, each one deepening the quiet promise growing between them. Aaliyah allowed herself to melt into the moment, letting herself feel a closeness she had kept at a distance for so long.

As they finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, Cruz’s gaze held a gentle depth that made Aaliyah’s heart flutter all over again. There, in the shaded quiet of the park, with the world fading around them, Aaliyah felt, just for that moment, that she could let herself believe in the possibility of something real, something that might find its own way forward.

They lingered a little longer, the quiet between them filled with a soft contentment. When they finally stood, Aaliyah’s hand found its way naturally into Cruz’s, their fingers lacing together as if they had always belonged there. They walked side by side, their steps falling into a gentle rhythm. Around them, the rustling leaves and distant murmurs faded, leaving them in their own small world, where every glance and unspoken moment seemed to mean something more.

When they reached the edge of the park, Cruz turned to Aaliyah, her eyes steady, a silent question hovering just behind them. A slight smile played at the corners of her lips as she murmured, “Would you like to do this again sometime?” The quiet sincerity in her voice made Aaliyah’s heart flutter.

Aaliyah felt her own smile grow, her fingers tightening just slightly around Cruz’s. “Yes,” she whispered, the word barely there, carrying the promise of something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in so long. “I’d like that.”

They stood there, lingering, neither one ready to break the moment. But a faint buzz from Cruz’s phone gently reminded them of the world beyond this shared afternoon. She glanced down, a soft apology flickering in her expression.

“Work?” Aaliyah asked, understanding, though there was a quiet reluctance in her smile.

Cruz nodded, a hint of regret in her eyes. “Seems like it.”

Their eyes met again, and in the silence, Aaliyah felt her pulse quicken, a gentle warmth filling her chest. Without thinking, she stepped closer, closing the small space between them, reaching for the moment she knew she didn’t want to let slip away.

Cruz’s breath caught, her gaze softening as Aaliyah leaned in, her hand resting lightly on Cruz’s shoulder. With quiet tenderness, she pressed her lips to Cruz’s in a delicate, lingering kiss, one that held the memory of every shared glance, every touch, as if she could carry it all with her.

When she pulled back, their foreheads brushed for a brief, intimate moment, and Aaliyah smiled, a touch of shyness mingling with the courage it had taken to reach out. Cruz’s eyes held hers, steady and warm, as though making a promise only the two of them understood.

“Very soon, then?” Cruz murmured, her voice soft, a gentle joy lighting her gaze.

“Very soon,” Aaliyah replied, her own voice only a whisper, as though speaking louder might shatter the spell they’d woven.

With one last shared look, they parted, turning reluctantly back to their own worlds—yet already bound to the promise of seeing each other again.

Aaliyah walked back to her hotel slowly, her mind replaying each touch, each quiet moment that now lingered like the faint warmth of a gentle embrace. The city moved around her, unchanged, yet everything felt different, every step carrying the memory of Cruz’s presence.

Halfway there, her phone buzzed. She paused, glancing down to see a message from Cruz.

Thank you for a beautiful afternoon. Would you like to come over for dinner on Friday?

A small thrill mixed with the familiar caution, the quiet tug of anticipation and the instinct to protect herself both stirring within her. She read the words again, feeling the warmth that had softened her defenses, but hearing, too, the voice that reminded her of the risks she knew so well.

Her thumb hesitated, caught between the safety of silence and the quiet courage it took to answer. But the memory of Cruz’s touch, the steadiness in her gaze, gave her pause, a gentle nudge forward. She found herself typing back, the message a small step into something she hadn’t expected.

I’d love to.

With a soft exhale, she slipped her phone back into her pocket, her heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. She continued her walk, thoughts drifting between caution and the undeniable pull of something real—something that, just maybe, was waiting to unfold.