Rules start forming in my head.
No touching unless she initiates.
No pressure.
No promises I can’t keep.
No calling authority figures yet—not until she’s ready.
No escalation unless she asks.
These are the lines I won’t cross. The boundaries I’ll hold even when my instincts scream at me to do more.
I push off the doorframe and step inside. Quietly. Carefully.
She kicked the blanket off at some point. It’s bunched near her feet, and her arms are bare. The house isn’t cold, but it’s not warm either.
I hesitate.
Then I reach down and pull the blanket back over her, tucking it gently around her shoulders.
She stirs. Just slightly. Her face scrunches, and she shifts deeper into the pillow.
My chest tightens.
My brain goes places I don’t want it to.
Her waking up afraid, looking around and not knowing where she is.
Her leaving quietly while we’re not paying attention, walking out the door and disappearing.
Her going back home, deciding it’s easier than this.
I hate that I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop imagining all the ways this goes wrong.
Footsteps in the hallway make me turn.
Callum appears, hair sticking up like he just woke from his own nap. He grins when he sees me standing there.
He whispers, “Dude, you gonna tuck her in and read her a bedtime story or—”
I level him with a look.
His grin falters. He reads the room.
“She okay?” he asks quietly.
“She’s sleeping.”
He nods and backs out of the doorway.
Zephyr joins us in the hallway a moment later. He doesn’t say anything. Just glances into the room, then back at me.
We all know we’re going to make sure she’s never hurt again.
No one says it out loud, but the agreement is there. Solid and unshakable.
Hours pass.
