Warmth Without Armor
Cassian’s POV Her building always smelled faintly of coffee grounds and sun-warmed carpet. He carried the bag in one hand, orange chicken, dumplings, spring rolls. And knocked gently. Lyra opened the door barefoot. Her sweater was oversized. Her smile was small, but real. “You’re early.” “You sound surprised.” “I’m never ready for company until five minutes after they arrive.” “I’m not company.” That earned a quiet laugh. Cassian stepped inside, set the food down. Alexa padded past him with all the suspicion of a cat who’d seen too much. He nodded once. “She’s still judging me.” “She’ll get over it. Eventually.” They sat on the floor again, surrounded by low lamplight and soft cushions. No music. No wine. Just warmth shared in silence. Halfway through the dumplings, she asked, “
- Writer
