NIKOLIA
I DON'T KNOW why I cared.
Claude wasn't my responsibility. He wasn't anything to me. But when he flinched yesterday-when I saw that flicker of fear in his eyes-I wanted to rip apart whoever put it there.
I'd never felt this way before. Never.
The partners in my life had always been transactional. I gave them what they wanted, took what I needed, and left it at that. No questions. No complications. No strings. Yet here I was, lying in bed, the early morning light bleeding through the curtains, thinking about him.
His breathing filled the room-slow, steady, but not the kind of calm you'd expect from someone still asleep.
"I know you're awake, Claude." My voice cut through the silence, and I heard the subtle shift of sheets as he tensed.
I turned my head toward
