Grayson
The door wasn’t closed, not all the way.
I stood there, staring at the gap just wide enough to feel like an invitation or a mistake.
Maybe both.
I didn’t knock. She knew I was still here.
For one last second, I told myself to turn around, to walk back to my room and keep this line intact.
But then she shifted in bed.
A soft rustle. Sheets sliding and I saw her shadow move, the outline of bare legs curling under her.
That was it.
I pushed the door open just far enough to step inside. The air in her room had a faint scent of her shampoo
She didn’t speak. Just sat up slightly against the headboard, tank top slipping lower over one shoulder, hair spilling wild over the pillow. Her knees bent, toes brushing together under the blanket.
I closed the door behind me without looki
