Eloise’s Pov.
After Dante left, the silence was immediate.
Not quiet—silence.
The kind that presses in too close. That clings to your skin. That reminds you, too abruptly, that you are alone.
I sat there for a while, listening to the last echoes of his footsteps fade down the hallway, feeling the way the door clicked shut behind him like a slow exhale. I told myself it was fine–i needed space. Time to reset. To breathe.
But God, it was getting harder to breathe around him.
Dante. The man who didn't touch me unless I asked–had somehow touched me more than anyone ever had. A presence that wrapped around me without even trying, like gravity. Like he didn't have to reach for me because my body was already leaning towards him, hungry without permission.
I hated how safe I was with
