-POV Derby
The morning light crept in slowly, almost hesitant, as if it knew better than to rush into the room where everything had changed. I lay tangled in Jordan’s arms on the narrow couch that had somehow become our temporary sanctuary, my cheek pressed against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His skin was warm against mine, one of his hands resting possessively on the curve of my hip, the other loosely threaded through my hair. We hadn’t moved much since we stumbled out of the pantry last night, still half-dressed, still breathing each other in like the world outside didn’t exist.
But the world did exist. And it was waiting.
I could feel the weight of it pressing down on me even before I fully opened my eyes. The second morning after — not the awkwar
