Lucas didn’t knock.
He pushed my door open like he already knew I was awake.
“Alright,” he said, stepping inside without permission. “You’ve been hiding in here long enough.”
I looked up from the bed, my phone still in my hand.
“I’m not hiding.”
“You are absolutely hiding.”
He walked further into the room, glanced at the desk—at the notebook, the photograph, the open mess of everything I hadn’t put away.
His eyes lingered there for half a second.
Then he looked back at me.
“Get up.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because you look like someone who’s been thinking too much.”
“That’s because I have been.”
“Exactly my point.”
I dropped my phone beside me.
“I’m fine.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
“No, you’re not.”
There was no teasing in his voice this time.
Just quiet certainty.
And someh
