The door clicks shut behind me, and I lean against it, exhaling firmly, as I let myself slide down. The walls feel safer—quiet, familiar—but my chest still thrums like a trapped heartbeat.
Brother’s presence lingers like smoke. I swear I can still feel the heat of him beside me, the way his energy filled the dining room until I could barely think straight.
I reach for my glasses on the floor, realizing I haven't been using one. After years, I finally get to see without glasses.
After minutes have passed, I get up, toss my glasses on the desk, and drag a hand through my hair.
Just then,
There's a soft knock. Too soft.
And I know who it is—his scent and the pull.
The handle turns, and the door creaks open, and there he is.
He steps inside like he owns the air I breathe. His dark eyes
