Sasha
I'm sitting on the floor of my room, staring at nothing, I can feel Pan hovering outside the door.
Despite the exhaustion clawing at me, I couldn't sleep last night.
How did everything go so wrong?
I thought... I thought I had finally found my place. My people. My home.
And now it's all ripped away — torn apart like it was never real to begin with.
Worse, I dragged Pan down with me.
I bury my face in my hands, fighting the burn behind my eyes. I don't know if it's rage or grief anymore. Maybe both.
The door creaks open.
Pan steps in quietly, not saying anything at first. He crosses the room in a few strides and drops down beside me on the bed.
He doesn't push. Doesn't prod. He sits here. A solid and warm presence that grounds me when everything else feels like it's slipping
