Kyra***
The house settled into night the way it always did when nothing needed fixing. Quiet. Safe.
I turned off the last light downstairs and followed Zaire up. I was already halfway out of my clothes by the time I hit the bedroom, moving slow, humming under my breath. His shirt was draped over the chair, and I slipped it on without thinking. It hung loose over my thighs, soft cotton worn thin from years of washing. It still smells like him.
I climbed into bed, fluffed my pillow, rolled onto my side. "Come on," I said, patting the space beside me.
The mattress dipped under his weight when he joined me. He pulled the covers up and his arm settled around my waist like muscle memory. I fit there. Easily. Perfectly.
I sighed, not because I needed to say anything, just because I was comf
