My knees give out, but he already has me. His fingers gently clutch my sides as he props me up on the edge of the sink, and my forehead slumps to his shoulder. His ridiculously soft shoulder.
“You didn’t sleep,” he murmurs, his voice above me, the vibration easing me further. “Do you want to rest?”
When I don’t respond, because I can’t,I feel him move. He tilts his head, trying to angle it so he can see my face, but I’m not moving. I can’t. I keep myself pressed against his shoulder, lips to his chest. I breathe in his scent, the coolness of it, the comfort.
Everything is so still now.
My head slips, falling off his shoulder—he catches the side of my face and cradles it in his hand, steady and cool. It stays there, like we’re frozen in time. A soft chill brushes my lips, so fleeting I can’t tell if it’s real.
Then one arm curves firmly around my back, the other hooking beneath my knees, gathering me against his chest with such careful precision I barely feel the movement.
“I have you,” he murmurs.
I’ll just stay here, just for a few minutes… But the cooling sensation begins to fade, the gentle touches reducing, disintegrating—leaving.
He’s leaving? He’s leaving when I need him? Like the last time? When I had to ask? Had to beg—
“I’m not leaving.”
I can’t open my eyes, they’re too heavy, but I don’t need to. I feel him slowly adjusting me, drawing me closer, until every part of me is supported by him, his darkness settling over me.
And for the first time in days... everything feels soft.
Chapter 10: Kane
She’s been asleep for nine hours. Nine hours I’ve stayed here, still, unmoving, terrified I’ll disturb her with the slightest shift, a breath too loud.
And I’ll stay here for a thousand more. A million.
Eternity.
If it means I can have her like this.
Ezekial’s office sofa is far from ideal. My back is aching, the leather arm digging into my spine, my legs hanging off the end. But she’s comfortable.
She’s asleep.
And she’s holding me.
So I endure.
I can look at her as much as I want, study the flutter of her lashes, memorise the dainty sprawl of freckles. Watch the soft, steady rise and fall of her chest.
Admire her fingers… clutching at me. At the collar of the hoodie I stole from Ezekial.
The one she wanted. The one I’ll never give back.
She can have it. Anything. Because this? This is more than I ever thought I’d be allowed.
My darkness urges me to follow her into sleep, to take what she’s offering, that impossible warmth and peace. And I want to.
I crave it.
It’s etched in me, the first time she rested on me like this, after her nightmare, how she pulled me into sleep with her. And when I woke, I truly saw her. Finally let myself accept what she was.
But I won’t close my eyes now. Not when I have her like this. As much as I crave sleep—I crave her more.
When Ezekial flits into his office, I ensure my stare speaks a thousand words. I don’t risk speaking to him mentally; if she stirs, this ends, and I’m not ready to lose it.
