Luke:
The sun’s bleeding through the blinds.
Soft and gold, too damn gentle for how wrecked I feel.
She’s still asleep.
Tangled in my sheets, on her side, one arm tucked beneath her cheek, lips parted slightly like she’s still dreaming something sweet. And maybe she is. Maybe for once, it’s not some twisted, haunted thing keeping her under.
I wish I could say the same.
I haven’t slept.
Not really.
Not since I let her in last night. Not since I kissed her like she was mine and told her to stay—me, the same bastard who spent years building walls tall enough to keep even her out.
But she got in anyway.
Because that’s what Alex does.
She slips past every defense with a smile that shouldn’t undo me but always does. With a laugh that sounds like home and a touch that feels like a blad
