Wilthon didn’t speak right away.
He remained beside me, one arm resting loosely against the headboard, his presence steady in a way that didn’t feel suffocating. Just… there. Grounding. Solid.
I turned my head slightly to look at him, still trying to piece together everything that had just happened, when his gaze shifted to me.
“Does it hurt still?” he asked, in his low voice, more direct than before.
I hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “A little,” I admitted honestly. “There’s… some stinging. But it’s manageable.”
His expression didn’t change much, but I noticed the slight tightening of his jaw, like he was assessing something.
“You should’ve said earlier,” he muttered, almost to himself.
“I didn’t think it was… that bad,” I replied, unsure why I suddenly felt the need
