But all I feel, lying here in the dark, is safe.
15
TANK
Iwake to gray Dublin light filtering through thin curtains and the immediate, overwhelming awareness of where I am.
Enya's bed.
Enya's flat.
Enya pressed against my side, one arm draped across my chest, breathing soft and even in sleep.
For a second, I just lie there, heart pounding, mind trying to process what happened last night.
She let me in.Really let me in.Not just physically—though Christ, that was...I can't even put words to what that was—but emotionally.She trusted me with her fear, her trauma, her body.Trusted me not to hurt her the way he did.
And now she's here, warm and safe and sleeping like she hasn't slept in months.
I'm fucked.
Completely, utterly fucked.
Because I care about her.More than I should.More than I know how to handle.
And the thought of anything happening to her, of Declan getting anywhere near her, makes me want to burn the world down.
I turn my head slightly, careful not to wake her, and just look at her for a minute.Blonde hair spread across the pillow.Face relaxed in a way I've never seen it.No tension.No fear.Just peace.
She's beautiful like this.
My chest aches.
I could get used to this.Waking up next to her.Watching her sleep.Being the reason she feels safe enough to let her guard down.
But I can't think about that right now.Can't let myself want things that might not be possible.
Not until Declan's dealt with.
Not until she's truly safe.
She stirs slightly, makes a small sound, and her eyes flutter open.For a second, she's disoriented.Then she sees me and something shifts in her expression.
Vulnerability.Embarrassment.Something softer underneath.
"Morning," I say quietly.
"Morning."Her voice is rough with sleep.She starts to pull away, create distance, but I tighten my arm around her gently.
"Don't," I say."Not yet."
She hesitates, then settles back against me, head on my chest."This is weird."
"What is?"
"Waking up with someone.Being...this."
"Good weird or bad weird?"
