He turned, his warm, friendly smile finally returning, though tinged with a deeper, more vulnerable expression. He didn’t pull away. 

Instead, he gently shifted, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “You don’t have to say anything, Cheryl. Just… let me help. Let me be here for you.”

The studio, usually a sanctuary of scent and creativity, was now a scene of wreckage, but in the midst of it, Dennis’s presence felt like a small, steady flame. She found herself leaning into his warmth, into the sheer relief of not being alone. 

The weight on her shoulders, though still immense, felt momentarily lighter. She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath, and without thinking, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Dennis stiffened for a fraction of a second, then relaxed, his arm coming around her, pulling her gently into a comforting embrace. His hand rested on her back, a solid, reassuring weight. 

The scent of his clean, fresh cologne, mixed with a faint hint of observatory dust and something uniquely him, was a simple, grounding aroma. She felt safe, truly safe, for the first time in days.

“Cheryl,” he murmured, his voice low, a soft rumble against her ear. “I… I know this isn’t the right time, and I know you’re going through so much right now. But I can’t keep it to myself anymore. Not when I see you hurting like this.” 

He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Cheryl.”

The words hung in the air, startling yet not entirely unexpected. They resonated deep within her, a clear, unambiguous declaration. 

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her eyes wide. His gaze was earnest, open, vulnerable. 

There was no mystery, no guardedness, just a profound, honest affection.

“I have been for a long time,” he continued, his thumb gently caressing her cheek, wiping away a lingering tear. “Since the first time you came to the observatory with your samples, talking about the ‘scent of a supernova.’ I’ve watched you, admired you, been amazed by your talent, your passion, your kindness. And I’ve seen how you light up a room, how you make everyone around you feel seen.”

He took her hands again, holding them firmly. “I know things are complicated right now. I know you’re drawn to Louis, to his art, to his intensity. And I respect that. But I want you to know that I can offer you something different. Something steady. Something uncomplicated.”

His eyes, a clear, honest blue, held hers. “I can offer you a future where you don’t have to fight battles alone. Where you’re cherished, supported, and loved, without question or hesitation. A future where your art is celebrated, and your heart is safe. I want to be that for you, Cheryl. I want to be your steady star.”

His confession was a beacon in her personal void, a clear, bright light offering a path away from the chaos. It was a promise of unwavering devotion, a stark contrast to the brilliant but unpredictable nebula that was Louis. 

In her moment of deepest vulnerability, Dennis had offered her not just a solution to her professional crisis, but a profound, heartfelt escape from her emotional turmoil. The choice, she realized, was becoming clearer, and infinitely more difficult.