My throat tightened so hard it hurt. I felt the warning in every syllable. I felt the threat without him raising his tone. I forced my lips apart.
Tried to speak.
Nothing. Just a shallow breath and a tremor that shook all the way through my arms.
His fingers brushed the blanket. Just a whisper of contact. Not enough to grab. Enough to make me flinch.
His eyes tracked the movement. The smallest twitch of fear. The way my shoulders curled tighter around themselves.
Then..two fingers pressed down.
Not on me.
On the blanket. Right over my hands. Pinning the fabric in place.
I froze.
Completely.
He leaned in-not bending or crouching, just lowering his head enough that I felt his words against my skin. Even though he hadn’t touched it yet.
“I hate repeating myself,” he said softly.
