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Cold.
Dry enough.
That’s all that matters.
We step in and shut the door as best we can behind us.
The storm hits harder outside.
Wind rattles the walls.
Rain pounds the roof.
And just like that—
We’re cut off.
No movement.
No escape.
No distractions.
Just—
Us.
I exhale slowly.
Trying to settle.
Trying to think.
Failing.
Because the second I look at him—
Everything shifts again.
“You’re bleeding,” I say.
“You’ve mentioned that.”
“I’m mentioning it again.”
He huffs a breath.
I step closer before he can argue.
“Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
A beat.
Then—
