My chest tightens unexpectedly.
Not from fear.
From the unfamiliar weight of being… heard.
“Most people try to fill silence,” I say softly.
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
A small pause.
Then—
“You make space for it.”
That lands.
Deep.
Logan exhales slowly, like that matters more than anything else I’ve said.
“Silence doesn’t bother me,” he replies. “Not if it’s real.”
I tilt my head slightly.
“And if it’s not?”
His eyes sharpen just a fraction.
“Then I fix it.”
There it is.
The protector.
Not controlling.
Not overwhelming.
Just—
Present.
Reliable.
My fingers tighten slightly in the blanket.
“I don’t want to disappear again,” I admit quietly.
His expression stills.
“You’re not,” he says immediately.
“I know,” I reply. “But it’s… easy. Default.”
“Then don’t go back there.”
