I nuzzled deeper into Kasteil, chasing the warmth of his body. His chest was solid beneath my cheek, his heartbeat a steady, reassuring rhythm against my ear. My eyelids felt so heavy, weighed down by the lingering pull of exhaustion. All I wanted was to sink back into sleep, to let the darkness swallow me whole and forget everything.
"Morning," he murmured in a groggy voice, his chest rumbling with the sound. He sounded just as tired as I felt, his voice thick with sleep.
"Morning," I replied — only my voice came out rough and scratchy, like I'd been screaming for hours. Why did I sound like that?
Then the previous night crashed into me all at once.
Everything.
The memorial. The alcohol. The words I had blurted out without thinking. The way I had practically begged him. The way he had looked at me, his eyes dark with emotion and want.
