A corner of his mouth lifts. “Educated guess.”
He helps me sit up, firm hand at my back, unintrusive but solid. I don’t argue. I should – independence is practically a reflex – but my body accepts the support like it’s been waiting for it.
That thought sends a small shiver through me.
“How long is ‘a while’?” I ask.
“Couple of days,” he says. “In and out.”
I frown. “That’s…long.” I immediately start to worry about work. I’ve been so unreliable, I bet they regret taking me on.
“You scared us,” he admits easily.
Us.
I file that away.
He hands me a mug first – tea, milked just right – and waits while I take a careful sip. The heat settles low in my chest, spreading outward. I hadn’t realised how cold I still was until now.
“You’ve been here,” I say slowly.
He doesn’t pretend not to understand. “Yeah.”
“More than once.”
“Yes.”
There’s no drama in the admission. No expectation. Just truth, laid gently between us.
I study him over the rim of the mug. He looks tired. Not rumpled or wrecked, just worn in a way that speaks of long hours spent alert. Watching. Protecting.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Something in his expression shifts, like I’ve said something heavier than I meant to. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I cut in. “So don’t rob me of it.”
That earns me a real smile.
I eat slowly, savouring each bite, my body humming with relief as strength seeps back into my limbs. The silence between us is comfortable. Companionable. It occurs to me that this is the calmest I’ve felt since I got here.
The door opens again without warning.
Koa’s absolute body double strolls in like he owns the place, hands in his pockets, grin already half-formed – until he clocks me upright, eating, very much awake.
“Well,” he says. “Look who decided to rejoin the living.”
Koa goes very still beside me. “This is my twin, Kai,” he explains after a beat.
I narrow my eyes atKaiover my toast. “Do you always sneak into bedrooms uninvited, or am I a special case?”
Kai blinks. Then laughs. “Ah. You’re feeling better.”
“I’m feelingaware,” I correct. “Which is worse for you, I suspect.”
He props himself against the doorframe, unfazed. “You’re welcome, by the way. For the excellent hospitality.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I say. “Though I seem to remember you being someoneelsewhen we met before.”