He jolted anyway, shoulders tensing before he turned toward me, eyes wide and too bright in the low kitchen light.
But the second he saw me, the tension melted. He sagged forward like his bones couldn’t hold him up anymore, and I caught him easily, pulling him into my arms.
“You okay?” I murmured into his hair. He smelled like cinnamon and my soap.
He didn’t answer right away. His forehead rested against my chest, and his hands clutched the back of my shirt like I was an anchor keeping him from drifting out to sea.
“I’m okay now,” he whispered eventually. His voice was small, hoarse.
I leaned down and kissed the nape of his neck, letting my lips linger there for a beat, grounding us both. “How long have you been up?”
“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he said, voice laced with attempted humor, though the edges of it were frayed.
I gave him a little squeeze, leading him to the table.
“Sit,” I said gently. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
He obeyed, looking exhausted but grateful. I poured him a glass of water, then started a fresh pot of coffee, the scent joining the cinnamon in a warm, comforting fog.
When I sat down beside him, he was already holding the glass in both hands like it might steady him.
“Nightmare?” I asked quietly.
He nodded, staring at the table, jaw tight.
“Wanna talk about it?” I asked.
He hesitated, then nodded again.
“It started normal. I was walking to the bakery. Sunny out, nice breeze. But it was too quiet. No one was around. Not a single soul on the street. Just… wrong.”
I listened, my chest tightening.
“I got inside and everyone was dead. Rafael, Leo, Dorian. Even the customers. And Beau—” His voice cracked, and I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “You were there. On the floor. And Orin was standing over you. Smiling. Like he’d won.”
My throat went dry. “Sean…”
“I woke up before anything else happened, but…” He shuddered, rubbing his free hand over his arm. “It felt real. Too real. Like a warning.”
I got up only to pull him into my lap, sitting us both down in the chair like it was made for two. He melted into me, head tucked under my chin again, like that was where he belonged.
“You’re safe,” I said, kissing his temple. “Right here. I promise.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But it doesn’t feel like enough sometimes. I keep thinking… what if it happens? What if he comes for you instead of me?”
I brushed my fingers through his hair. “I can handle myself.”
“I know you can,” he said quickly. “It’s not that. It’s just… if anything ever happened to you, Beau, I don’t know what I’d do.”
My heart thudded in my chest. There it was again. That fear, buried beneath all his bravery. He kept so much locked up inside.
And I couldn’t take all the weight off him, but I could shoulder some of it.
“You’re not selfish,” I said suddenly, reading the guilt in his voice. “You thinking about staying, about having a future here with me. That’s not selfish. That’s brave.”
He looked up at me, surprised.
“You’ve been running for so long. Wanting something? Choosing it, despite everything? That takes guts.”
