I didn't hear him stir, but I felt it.
The way the bed shifted slightly. The way his arm moved behind me, hesitating before it draped across my waist again, looser this time. Not possessive. Careful.
I kept my eyes closed.
Pretended to still be asleep.
But my breathing gave me away.
I wasn't steady. I wasn't calm.
And I knew the moment he noticed.
"Are you okay?" His voice was a whisper, low and cautious, as if he were afraid to disturb something fragile.
I stayed silent.
Not because I didn't want to speak, but because I didn't trust myself to say anything that wouldn't shatter whatever this was.
He shifted closer. His chest pressed lightly against my back. "Athena," he said again, a little firmer this time.
I sighed and opened my eyes. Still facing away from him.
"I'm awake," I murmured.
There was a pause.
Then, "Did I hurt you?"
The question wasn't physical. I heard the truth in his tone. He meant something deeper. Rawer.
