Not sobbing—just silent streams that track down my cheeks and wet his fingers where they're still cupping my face.
No one has ever...
No one has ever said...
I can't finish the thought.
It's too big.
Too much.
Too everything that I've been starving for without knowing I was hungry.
"Sera." His voice is soft now. "Don't cry."
"I'm not crying." The words come out watery and completely unconvincing. "It's raining."
"It's not raining."
"Allergies."
"You're not allergic to anything."
"How would you know?"
"You told me in a letter once. When you were fifteen. You said the only thing you were allergic to was 'the bullshit of people who think they know what's best for me.'"
A laugh escapes—wet and broken and completely involuntary.
"You remember that?"
"I remember everything." He kisses my forehead. "Every word. Every confession. Every glimpse of the girl behind the armor."
One-two-three-four.
My fingers flex against his chest.
One-two-three-four.
The counting helps.
Grounds me.
Keeps me from floating away on the tide of emotions threatening to sweep me under.
"We should go," I manage finally. "Pack meeting. Kai. Plans."
Sage nods.
But he doesn't release me immediately.
Instead, he kisses me again—softer this time, gentler, a press of lips that feels more like a promise than a claiming.
I see you.
I want you.
I'm not going anywhere.
