Eloise’ POV
I woke to a soft nudge, barely a brush against my shoulder. At first, I thought it was a dream. Tyrone’s touch felt foreign, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wake me or let me sleep. My eyes fluttered open, and there he was—his face calm, though from his gaze, I know that he is hiding the anger he had been suppressing for days.
“Tyrone?” I murmured, still groggy, blinking against the early light filtering through the curtains. I wasn’t sure if I was more surprised by the sight of him or the fact that he was waking me up himself. We hadn’t exchanged more than a few strained words since...everything.
“You need to get ready,” he said, his voice steady but low, as if it carried weight he didn’t want to unpack. He stepped back slightly, giving me space to sit
