Jane shifted slightly on the couch, adjusting the blanket around Sophia's shoulders.
The fever medicine was starting to work.
Sophia's breathing had slowed, her body relaxing against Jane's side. Her head rested on Jane's shoulder now, warm and heavy, strands of dark hair brushing Jane's neck.
Jane didn't move.
She didn't want to.
Outside the window, the afternoon light had softened into a pale gold, spilling across the quiet apartment.
Sophia stirred.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the fabric of Jane's shirt.
Jane glanced down.
Sophia's eyes fluttered open slowly, still hazy with sleep.
For a moment she just stared at Jane like she was trying to remember where she was.
Then awareness returned.
And with it, a faint flush rose to her pale cheeks.
"Oh," Sophia murmured.
Jane smiled, clearly amused.
"Good afternoon, sleeping beauty."
Sophia blinked. "What time is it?"
"Almost three."
Sophia frowned faintly. "You should have woken me."
"You were sick."
"I had work."
Jane tilted her head, studying her.
"Sophia."
"Yes?"
"You sent a sick leave email."
Sophia paused.
"Oh."
Jane laughed softly.
Sophia huffed under her breath but didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned a little closer.
Jane noticed.
Her smile softened.
"How do you feel?"
"Less like I'm dying," Sophia admitted.
"High praise."
Sophia looked down at their position then—her head on Jane's shoulder, Jane's arm wrapped around her.
Her ears turned slightly red.
"You know," Jane said casually, "for someone who was terrified of being vulnerable two hours ago, you're very cuddly."
Sophia froze.
"I am not cuddly."
Jane raised an eyebrow.
"You've been clinging to me for twenty minutes."
"I was....asleep."
"Still counts."
Sophia attempted to sit up.
Jane tightened her arm immediately.
"Nope."
Sophia blinked at her. "What?"
"Doctor's orders."
Sophia looked skeptical. "You're not a doctor."
Jane leaned closer, her voice dropping playfully.
"But I'm dating one."
Sophia's face turned even redder.
Dating.
The word hung between them.
Jane saw the moment Sophia processed it.
Saw the quiet surprise.
"Sophia?" Jane asked softly.
"Mm?"
"Are we dating?"
Sophia opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
Her fingers twisted slightly in the edge of the blanket.
Jane watched her with open amusement.
"You just perform surgery on people but this question is hard?"
Sophia glared weakly.
"It's different."
"How?"
Sophia hesitated.
Then said quietly, "Because with surgery I know what I'm doing."
Jane's expression softened immediately.
She reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair from Sophia's face.
"You don't have to know everything."
Sophia met her eyes.
"I like you," she said again, softer this time. "Very much."
Jane grinned.
"I know."
Sophia squinted at her.
"You're very confident."
"I am."
"And if I say we're not dating?"
Jane leaned closer.
So close Sophia forgot how to breathe.
"Then I'll just kiss you again until you change your mind."
Sophia stared at her.
Then—despite herself—she laughed.
A quiet, breathy laugh that made Jane's chest warm.
"You are extremely bold."
Jane shrugged.
"I know what I want."
Sophia's voice dropped.
"And what do you want?"
Jane didn't hesitate.
"You."
Sophia went still.
Completely still.
Jane reached for her hand, threading their fingers together.
"And I think," Jane added softly, "you want me too."
Sophia looked down at their joined hands.
Her thumb brushed over Jane's knuckle unconsciously.
Then she said quietly,
"Yes."
Jane smiled.
A slow, bright smile.
"Good."
Sophia looked back up.
"You seem very pleased with yourself."
"I am."
Jane leaned forward and kissed her again.
Slow.
Warm.
Unhurried.
Sophia melted into it immediately, one hand rising to rest against Jane's cheek.
When they pulled apart, Sophia looked slightly dazed.
Jane grinned.
"Congratulations."
Sophia blinked. "For what?"
Jane squeezed her hand.
"You officially have a girlfriend."
Sophia stared at her.
Then something soft and almost shy appeared in her expression.
"My first one."
Jane froze.
"Wait."
Sophia immediately looked embarrassed.
Jane's eyes widened slightly.
"Are you serious?"
Sophia covered part of her face with her hand.
"Must we discuss this?"
Jane's grin returned—bigger this time.
"Oh my God."
Sophia groaned quietly.
"Jane."
"My confident, intimidating surgeon has never had a girlfriend."
Sophia sighed.
"This was a mistake."
Jane leaned closer again, whispering near her ear.
"Relax, Dr. Whitmore."
Sophia shivered slightly.
"I'll take good care of you."
Sophia looked at her again.
Something warm, trusting, and slightly overwhelmed in her gaze.
"I believe you will."
Jane kissed her forehead gently.
"Good."
Then she stood.
Sophia frowned.
"Where are you going?"
Jane stretched slightly.
"Kitchen."
"For what?"
Jane looked over her shoulder.
"You're sick."
Sophia nodded slowly.
"And?"
Jane smirked.
"I'm making you more soup."
Sophia watched her walk away.
A small smile forming on her lips.
For the first time in years, her apartment didn't feel empty.
And for the first time in a very long time…
Sophia felt something dangerously close to happiness.
Jane filled the kettle and set it on the stove.
Behind her, the apartment was quiet except for the soft rustle of the blanket when Sophia shifted on the couch.
Jane glanced over her shoulder.
Sophia was watching her.
Not pretending not to.
Just… watching.
Jane caught the look and lifted a brow. "What?"
Sophia didn't answer right away. Her gaze drifted slowly over Jane—her loose sweater, the way her hair had fallen slightly out of place from the long afternoon.
Then Sophia looked away, almost shy.
"Nothing."
Jane snorted softly. "That was not a nothing look."
Sophia adjusted the blanket around herself. "I was simply observing."
"Observing what?"
Sophia hesitated.
"You," she admitted.
Jane turned fully now, leaning back against the counter with her arms folded.
"Well?"
Sophia blinked. "Well what?"
"What was the diagnosis, Doctor?"
Sophia tried to look serious.
Failed.
"You move around my kitchen like you always live here."
Jane grinned. "Confident energy."
"You opened three cabinets without asking."
"I was looking for soup ingredients."
"You found them."
"I always do."
Sophia's lips twitched slightly.
Jane pushed off the counter and walked back toward the couch, carrying a glass of water.
She held it out.
"Drink."
Sophia accepted it obediently.
Jane watched her swallow a few sips, then sat beside her again, close enough that their knees touched.
Sophia noticed.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
Jane tilted her head.
"You're doing that thing again."
Sophia frowned faintly. "What thing?"
"Looking nervous."
"I am not nervous."
Jane leaned closer.
Sophia's breath caught.
"You're blushing," Jane murmured.
"I have a fever."
Jane laughed quietly.
Sophia set the glass aside before Jane could keep teasing her.
"Jane."
"Yes?"
"You seem very comfortable with all of this."
Jane's smile softened.
"With you?"
Sophia nodded.
Jane reached out and gently took Sophia's hand again, her thumb brushing over the back of it.
"That's because I've wanted this for a long time."
Sophia looked at her.
"How long?"
Jane shrugged lightly. "Long enough that when you finally kissed me back, I thought I might pass out."
Sophia's cheeks warmed again.
"I did not realize my effect was so dramatic."
"Oh, it is." Jane squeezed her hand. "You just didn't notice."
Sophia went quiet for a moment.
Her gaze drifted to their hands.
Then she said softly, almost thoughtfully,
"I think… I noticed."
Jane looked at her curiously.
"But I convinced myself I was imagining things," Sophia continued. "You'd smile at me and I'd tell myself you were just being polite."
Jane laughed under her breath.
"Sophia."
"Yes?"
"I was flirting with you."
Sophia blinked slowly.
"Oh."
Jane leaned her head against the back of the couch.
"You are unbelievably bad at noticing flirting."
"I notice flirting."
"Not mine."
Sophia considered that.
"…apparently not."
Jane chuckled.
The kettle in the kitchen clicked off.
Jane started to stand, but Sophia's fingers tightened around her hand.
Jane paused.
She looked down.
Sophia wasn't looking at her.
Her gaze was fixed somewhere near Jane's shoulder.
But she hadn't let go.
Jane sat back down.
"Something wrong?"
Sophia shook her head.
"No."
"Then why did you stop me?"
Sophia hesitated.
Then admitted quietly,
"I like when you sit close."
Jane felt something warm bloom in her chest.
"Oh?"
Sophia finally glanced at her.
Her voice was softer now.
"I like when you touch me."
Jane leaned in slightly, her voice playful but gentle.
"Good thing I plan to do that a lot."
Sophia's breath caught again.
Jane's fingers slid lightly along Sophia's wrist before lacing their hands together again.
Sophia didn't pull away.
Instead she shifted slightly closer.
Jane noticed immediately.
Her grin returned.
"You're getting bolder."
Sophia sighed quietly.
"This is humiliating."
"Why?"
"Because I am supposed to be the composed one."
Jane leaned closer, her shoulder brushing Sophia's.
"You can be composed tomorrow."
Sophia glanced at her.
"And today?"
Jane's smile turned softer.
"Today you're just my girlfriend."
The words settled between them.
Sophia looked at her again, something tender flickering in her eyes.
"My girlfriend," she repeated quietly, like she was testing the sound of it.
Jane nodded once.
Sophia's lips curved into a small smile.
Then she surprised Jane.
She leaned forward.
And kissed her.
Slow.
Careful.
Still slightly shy.
Jane froze for half a second—then melted into it.
Her hand rose instinctively, resting gently against Sophia's waist.
The kiss lingered.
Soft.
Warm.
When Sophia pulled back, she looked almost proud of herself.
Jane blinked at her.
"Well," Jane said.
Sophia raised a brow.
"Well what?"
"That was bold."
Sophia lifted her chin slightly.
"I am capable of boldness."
Jane laughed softly.
"Yes," she said. "I'm starting to see that."
Sophia relaxed back against the couch, her shoulder now pressed comfortably against Jane's.
A quiet moment settled between them again.
Then Sophia spoke.
"Jane?"
"Hmm?"
"You said earlier you would take care of me."
Jane nodded.
"I did."
Sophia glanced toward the kitchen.
"The kettle finished boiling."
Jane groaned softly.
"You noticed that?"
"I did."
Jane sighed dramatically and stood.
"Fine. More soup coming."
Sophia watched her walk back into the kitchen again.
The quiet apartment felt warmer somehow.
More alive.
Jane stirred the soup on the stove, glancing back occasionally.
Every time she looked—
Sophia was still watching her.
Not with uncertainty anymore.
But with something softer.
Something certain.
And when Jane caught her staring again, she smiled.
Sophia didn't look away this time.
She smiled back.