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Barely noticeable.
But I see it.
And then—
Because apparently I’ve lost all self-preservation—
I add quietly:
“…I’m not losing you out here.”
Jase
That—
That I didn’t expect.
Not from her.
Not now.
Not—
At all.
I step closer.
Before I think better of it.
Before I shut it down.
Before I—
Stop.
“You’re not going to,” I say.
Quiet.
Certain.
Closer now.
Too close again.
Always too close.
Her breath catches.
Just a little.
Enough.
“Good,” she whispers.
And for a second—
Just one—
