The hallway outside Room 207 was bathed in the amber light of evening, the kind that blurred the line between warmth and melancholy. Elise climbed the last few steps, heart thudding, fingers clutching the strap of her bag as if it could steady her nerves.
And then she saw him.
Jaxon was leaning against her door, eyes closed, face tilted toward the fading sky. The dying sunlight caught in his dark hair, turning it a deep copper at the edges. His lashes cast long shadows across his cheekbones, his jawline sharp, the rise and fall of his chest slow and even.
For a moment, she just stood there, watching him breathe—half afraid to disturb the quiet, half afraid of what would happen when she did.
“Jaxon,” she said softly.
His eyes opened. He looked down at her, blinking once before straight
