Her fingers curled faintly against her chest as that dangerous thought flickered through her. It was terrifying not because it was wrong, but because of how fiercely, how helplessly, she wanted it.
The warmth beneath her palm, the soft thrum of a living heartbeat, the weight of breath flowing through borrowed lungs… it was intoxicating in its simplicity. Life. Presence. A body she could inhabit. Arms she could use to reach him. Lips she could use to speak his name. The temptation was so sharp it felt like a blade sliding along the fragile line between longing and theft.
Yet just as her resolve began to tremble, another sound rose from deep within… the raw, ragged, soul-torn cry of the woman whose body she carried.
"Leroy…" Lorraine's voice quivered through the hollow between worlds, a whisper full of ache and desperation. "I'll find a way… I'm here, Leroy… I'm here…"
