Cheon Hae-Won stared at the ceiling and tried to remember how to be a person who made rational decisions.
The sheet covered her from chest to knees. Her hair stuck to her neck with sweat. Her body ached in places she had never consciously thought about before tonight.
Rome D'Angelo sat next to her on the bed, completely naked and apparently unbothered by this fact, watching her with his mismatched eyes like he could see directly into her skull.
She needed to leave.
She wanted to stay.
The gap between those two truths felt wide enough to swallow her whole.
"Stay," Rome said again.
Just that. One word. No pressure behind it. No performance.
Her throat closed.
"I packed the bag because I didn't know what would happen," she said. "Not because I assumed anything."
"I know."
"You don't actually want me to stay. You're just being polite."
Rome laughed. Actually laughed. Low and rough and genuinely amused.
