I gasp for air, trying to steady my breathing, but choke instead. Panic claws at my chest. My legs thrash beneath the sheets. Sweat beads across my hairline. My fingernails bite into the mattress, knuckles locking tight.
I’m suffocating.
And then… warmth.
A hand closes around my clenched fist. Long fingers ease between mine, coaxing them open. Lips brush my ear. Someone smooths damp hair from my forehead.
I inhale.
Then again—deeper this time.
It’s him. I don’t question it. I lean into the certainty, into the presence that seems to fill the room.
“Shh…”His breath is warm against my ear, and I begin to calm, clinging to the sound.
“Shh…”again, closer now.
“Alex,” I whisper, surprised by the rasp in my voice. I say it again, just to be sure it’s real.
It is.
His fingers ghost over my lips, slow and weightless, tracing the curve of my Cupid’s bow.
My breath catches.
The touch is so light, it almost doesn’t feel real—like a whisper made of skin.
I struggle to open my eyes, lids fluttering against their own weight.
“I’m here, angel,” he murmurs. His thumb sweeps gently across my cheek, and I turn my face toward the sound of his voice.
“Alex…”
My heart slows from a trot to a walk, and then finally a leisurely stroll. I sigh, a low sound escaping me. My legs relax, heels sliding back down to the foot of the bed. He’s here. I squeeze his hand—just enough to say I hear him. That he’s calming me. That he’s exactly what I need.
I try to speak again, but the words tangle. Too many feelings, too fast, crowd my lips and spill out as noise.
“Try again, angel,” he whispers, patient, still stroking my cheek.
It’s the same voice I’ve heard in my dreams since I was five—except now I’m not dreaming. And I’m no longer five.
A suddenpopmakes me flinch, but then his fingers return, pressing something cool to my lips. Lip balm, I think. He spreads it gently across the cracked skin. I pucker for more, humming softly as they grow dewy and pliant beneath his touch.
Then I press them together, and his finger slips between. Just for a moment. Just long enough to taste him.
It's exactly what I needed. My eyes flutter open, and there he is—my brother. His handsome face so close that our noses nearly touch.
I try speaking again. “Don’t. Tell. Gabriel,” I whisper, the words hushed and a little garbled. But I think he understands.
His hand returns to my forehead, gently brushing aside stubborn strands of hair. His thumb moves in slow circles, soothing the tension from my brow. I hum, melting into the comfort of his touch. I’ve longed for this forever.
“Don’t tell him what, angel?” he asks softly, his hazel eyes locked onto mine.
I need to tell him everything, from beginning to end. About me. His parents. My sister.Him. He needs to be warned. But instead, I draw in a steady breath and let a small smile tug at my lips—hoping he can see it.
“Don’t tell him… that… I love you.”
And then my breath gives out. All I can do is hold his gaze… and watch him absorb my words.
