“You didn’t have to do all this,” she murmurs.
“I know,” I reply. “I wanted to.”
Her gaze lingers on me, unfocused but intent. Whatever she’s feeling, it’s deeper than embarrassment now. More vulnerable.
“Stay,” she says softly. Not a request. Not quite.
Something in my chest tightens.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say.
And I mean it.
For now, at least.
TWENTY
LANI
I floatin and out of sleep like I’m caught on the edge of a tide.
Not fully under. Not properly awake either. Just drifting – aware of warmth, pressure, sound – then slipping again before I can grab hold of any of it.
The sofa dips slightly beside me.
My body reacts before my brain does. My shoulders loosen. My breathing evens. The tight, crawling buzz under my skin eases back just enough that I don’t feel like I’m vibrating apart from the inside.
Finn.
I don’t open my eyes. I don’t need to.
There’s a particular weight to him when he sits – grounded, solid, like the room adjusts around his presence without being asked. The blanket is tucked a little higher around my shoulders. A glass is placed on the table within easy reach. Fingers brush my wrist, brief and careful, checking.
The nausea recedes. Not gone. Just…muted.
I breathe out slowly, the ache at my neck pulsing dully instead of screaming for attention. The heat in my belly settlesinto something manageable – still there, still insistent, but no longer overwhelming.
That’s when it clicks.
I feel better.
Not healed. Not fixed. Just…steadier.
But only when he’s here.
The thought slides in quietly, dangerous in its simplicity.
I drift again.
When I wake properly, the light has shifted. Afternoon sun slants through the window, soft and pale, catching dust motes in the air. My mouth is dry, but not unbearably so. My head still throbs, but it’s distant now – background noise instead of a blaring alarm.
Finn’s in the armchair opposite me, one ankle propped on his knee, phone abandoned in his hand as he watches me.
“You awake?” he asks quietly.
“Mmm.” My voice comes out rough. “How long was I out?”
“A while.”