Felicity woke to the uncomfortable realization that she was being stared at.
Not in the sharp way. Not the hungry way. The careful way. The kind people used when they weren't sure if you were fragile or dangerous and didn't want to guess wrong. She kept her eyes closed a second longer out of spite.
Whoever was holding her hadn't shifted once. Not when her breathing changed. Not when her fingers flexed. That told her more than opening her eyes ever could.
Victor.
She exhaled slowly and let herself lean into the certainty of him, the steady pressure of his arm around her back, the warmth at her side. Her ribs complained when she moved, but the pain was distant, muted, like her body was still deciding whether it was allowed to be dramatic.
"You're awake," Victor said quietly.
She hummed in acknowledgment, then frowned. "Did I pass out heroically, or was it more… embarrassing."
