Victor’s POV
The sheets were cool and dark under her small body, the silk catching the moonlight that filtered through the windows. She looked so perfect there, her dress wrinkled from the bar and her hair spread across my pillow like it had always belonged there. I stood back for a moment and just watched her breathe, watched the rise and fall of her chest, watched the way her fingers curled into the fabric like she was holding onto something even in sleep.
She stirred on the bed, a small sound escaping her lips, and her eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, she looked lost, her gaze unfocused and swimming, the drug still heavy in her system. She blinked once, twice, her brow furrowing like she was trying to remember where she was. Then her eyes found me standing at the foot of the bed
