POV: Adrian
I do not sleep.
That is not unusual.
What is unusual is why.
The terrace replay refuses to leave my mind. Not the conversation. Not the words.
The moment.
Her hand on my wrist.
A small gesture. Harmless by every measurable standard.
Yet my body reacted before thought could intervene. Pulse altered. Breathing shifted. Attention narrowed entirely to her presence.
Loss of control.
Unacceptable.
The city is still dark when I leave the bed. Lydia sleeps beside me, turned slightly toward my side as if gravity itself has adjusted direction overnight.
I stand there longer than necessary.
Observing.
Confirming stability.
She looks younger when asleep. The guard lowered. Expression unburdened by calculation or defense.
Safe.
The word settles before I can reject it.
I le
