~SAFFRON~
My head is a full-on war zone.
The second my eyes flutter open, flashbacks slam into me: the hug with Elixir, screaming “he’s kidnapping me!” at the gala, calling Jason’s bruised face beautiful while grabbing his chin, and then… my lips brushing his cheek. Jesus Christ.
The rest after that is a fever dream I can’t quite catch—something about leaning closer, his forehead resting on my shoulder. Probably just my brain making up nonsense. It has to be. It has to.
But I still can’t remember how I ended up back in my room. I groan and shove my face into the pillow. It smells like him—I smell like him—and I have to muffle a scream into the pillow, covering my head with the blanket. Jason was here. In my room. It’s the only explanation.
A knock on my door makes me yank the blanket
