Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t pull away. “You can’t protect me from him,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “No-one can.”
I lean in, lowering my voice so only she can hear. “Watch me.”
Her eyes search mine, and for a fleeting moment, something stirs there—hope, maybe, or something close to it. She doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t pull away either.
I’m not sure when it happened—when I started caring so much, started giving a damn about what happens to her. But I do. I care more than I should, enough to want to shield her from everything threatening to crush her. Even if it’s for my own selfish reasons. I shove those feelings down, forcing them into the shadows, as her gaze drops to my hand gripping her arm. The realization makes my chest tighten, and I let her go.
