Aria
Lucas’s apartment is too quiet.
Not peaceful — alert. Like the walls are listening. Like the silence is waiting for something to go wrong.
The door shuts behind us, locks clicking into place. The city noise fades instantly, sealed out. My body finally registers that we’re safe.
And that’s when everything crashes.
My knees buckle without warning.
Lucas catches me before I hit the floor, arms locking around my body with instinctive force. His grip is firm — not gentle, not rough — certain.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my hair.
I don’t answer. I can’t. My hands fist in his shirt like if I let go, gravity will win.
He lifts me.
Not bridal. Not dramatic. Just… necessary.
He carries me to the couch, sets me down carefully, then kneels in front of me like the world has narro
