CASSIAN
The hotel suite swallowed us in silence the second the door clicked shut.
Too still. Too clean. Nothing like the boiling mess I'd dragged in with me.
Noah sagged against my side as if his bones had liquefied. His steps were sloppy, uncoordinated... every ounce of his weight an anchor dragging at my patience.
"…where… where're we…?" he slurred, his head bumping against my shoulder.
"Somewhere you can sleep this off."
I maneuvered us through the entryway, past the kitchenette where untouched stainless-steel appliances gleamed back at us.
The suite was dim except for the faint gold glow from the city lights leaking through the tall windows. Smooth furniture, cold marble, everything immaculate and expensive... nothing about this space was built to handle a drunk man unraveling at the seams.
