Chapter 21: Whispers in the Quiet
The laughter from the dining room had faded into soft murmurs and the occasional clink of a glass.
The evening had folded into that gentle stillness that only happens when you're surrounded by people you trust.
Outside, soft snow was falling again. Inside, the golden glow of floor lamps cast warm halos of light. In the background, an old instrumental version of La Vie en Rose played, delicate and slow.
Lina sat in a corner of the living room, wrapped in a soft blanket, her fingers curled around a mug of herbal tea. Her thoughts were full—of moments with Jonas, of conversations with friends, of everything life had suddenly brought to the surface.
Leo joined her quietly, a soft smile on his face and a bottle of beer in hand.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked gently, his voice warm and grounding.
"Please," Lina nodded.
He sat across from her, resting back into the armchair.
When he noticed the quiet weight in her eyes, he took a sip and said, "Jonas isn't the easiest person to understand. I know you already care about him, but maybe I can help you see why he's the way he is."
Lina looked at him, surprised but open.
Leo's smile grew softer. "Our moms—mine, Mia's, and Jonas's—they were childhood friends. Grew up on the same street, went to the same school. Life pulled them in different directions, but they never stopped calling each other sisters."
"Really?" Lina's eyes widened. "That explains... a lot."
Leo nodded. "When Jonas's mom died, he changed. Not in a dramatic way. He just... grew quieter. More focused. I think he felt he had to carry the weight she left behind. To protect everyone around him. Even when no one asked him to."
Lina looked down at her mug, her voice barely above a whisper. "And now he's protecting me."
Leo leaned forward slightly, his tone kind but steady. "He sees something in you, Lina. Something worth fighting for. Jonas isn't the kind of man who throws words around carelessly. When he looks at you... it's like watching someone find home for the first time."
Silence settled over them, not heavy—just full. Like the room itself was exhaling.
Lina drew in a shaky breath. "Sometimes I worry I'll break this. That I'm too messed up to be someone's safe place."
Leo shook his head slowly. "You're not broken. You're healing. There's a difference. And Jonas? He doesn't run from shadows. He just hopes you'll let him walk through them with you."
Her eyes shimmered—not from tears, but something more powerful: relief.
Leo grinned, easing the mood. "Also, you should know—Jonas once tried to ski down a staircase when we were twelve. Broke his wrist. Claimed it was for 'science.'"
Lina burst into laughter—genuine, from the heart.
Not the light chuckles from earlier in the evening, but a deep, warm laugh that bubbled up and surprised even her.
"I'll have to remind him of that."
"Please do," Leo said, raising his bottle. "He hates that story."