Ally's POV
I sit on the edge of my bed, my fingers tracing the delicate embroidery of the duvet cover, each stitch a reminder of the life I'm entangled in- a web woven with threads of fear and fragile hopes.
Elliot's presence is both a balm and a torment. He's here, in the same room, standing like a guard by the door, his broad shoulders casting a formidable shadow against the wall. His eyes, though, hold a softness that contradicts the rest of him- a gentleness that seems reserved just for me.
I had taken my turn as the guard, and when he woke up he insisted that I needed sleep.
"Ally," he says, and my name is a low rumble from the depth of his chest. "I'll be right here if you need anything."
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice barely carrying across the room. My heart flut
