Avery:
This ugly, run-down shack had finally become something that felt… livable.
It wasn’t the sterile, gleaming hospital I came from, not even close—but it was clean now. Semi-sterile. The scent of citrus wipes mixed with sharp antiseptic filled the air, settling into the cracks of the worn floorboards and peeling paint. That smell, oddly enough, made my heart tingle.
It reminded me of purpose. Of saving things that could be saved.
I was crouched by the cabinet, sliding the freshly filled gauze container into place, my mind wandering. Cruz had kissed me this morning like he was late to war. Like he didn’t want to leave. And God, I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.
The door creaked open behind me.
Casual. Familiar.
I didn’t even look up.
“You bleeding or burnt?” I joked, ris
