Touchpoints.
A language made for two.
He rememberedthe way her fingers had lingered on the label. The softness in her voice when she said the word “lavender.”
The details others missed?
He worshipped them.
And the rose, stripped of thorns, but no less sharp, wasn’t just a gesture.
It was a promise.
A thread between them. Tied in red.
She hadn’t thrown them away.
Hadn’t hidden them.
She’d kept them.
All of them.
That was enough.
She didn’t flinch. Not yet.
Curiosity was the first crack.
Still,there was Gideon.
Always in the way.
Watching. Hovering. Caging.
He didn’t see her fire.
He saw a belonging to keep.
To possess.
To lock behind glass.
But Sebastian?
He would let her burn.
He would be the one to set her free.
Across the room,she paused.
A hand too slow. A breath caught in her chest.
She felt it.
The shift.
She didn’t look for him.
