I stay tucked against him, his arm still wrapped around me, his hand resting at my waist.
My fingers drift back into his hair, slower this time, thoughtful.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask.
“You don't need to ask.”
I trace a small line along his chest.
“You don’t really talk about yourself,” I say softly.
“What do you want to know?”
I take a breath.
“You.. your family.”
My fingers pause in his hair.
“You don’t have to—”
“I don’t have siblings,” he says, cutting in gently.
Then, after a second—
His gaze shifts slightly—not away, just… inward.
Thinking.
“It was always just me in that house,” he continues. “No one to take the heat off me, no one to… split anything with.”
A small pause.
“And no one to step in either.”
My chest tightens, and I let him keep going.
“My dad…” h
