Celeste hadn’t realized when her eyes slipped shut. Wrapped in her blanket, she had shifted closer and closer until she was leaning against Silas, her breathing steady, her cheek nearly resting on his chest. He hadn’t moved her, hadn’t dared. Instead, he simply sat there, letting the warmth of her trust soak into him like something rare.
Victoria’s soft footsteps broke the stillness. She stopped short at the sight before her: Celeste curled up peacefully, and Silas, unmoving, brushing his fingers gently through Celeste’s hair as though she were something fragile.
Victoria’s brows lifted, lips parting in stunned silence. “What… did you two do last night?”
Silas didn’t look up. His eyes were still on Celeste, softer than she had ever seen them. “We just talked,” he said simply.
Victoria
