Viv:
The night crept in slow. Heavy. Too quiet.
The kind of silence that made your thoughts louder.
I sat curled on the corner of the couch, knees hugged to my chest, wrapped in one of Knox’s hoodies that still smelled like leather and smoke and whatever the hell cologne he used that made my insides ache in a way I hated admitting. He was sitting across the room, half-leaned over his phone, elbows on his knees. That brooding expression on his face—the one he wore when he was working something out in his head.
He hadn't said much since we got back.
But then, neither had I.
I watched him in the soft lamplight. The way his jaw ticked when he was thinking. The way his fingers curled into fists when he didn’t realize they were doing it. That same storm in his eyes he always carried when h
