After twenty minutes or so, there are loud noises and a voice.
Austin gets up from the sofa to check it out, his movements careful but swift. I remain where I am, still aching too much to move properly yet.
It’s only now that I notice what he’s wearing—clearly some of Will’s old clothes. A flicker of amusement pierces through the fog of exhaustion and grief. Austin wouldn't be Austin if his clothes actually fit him properly. The jogging bottoms are too tight around his muscular thighs and slightly too short at the ankles, while the t-shirt is long enough but looks utterly ridiculous on him.
I don’t have long to dwell on it before Austin reaches the doorway. I see his stance shift, his expression melting from concern to relief as he recognises whoever is there. My heart clenches warmly
