Night.
Jay was asleep on the couch, still curled against Keifer's chest.
The heating pad rested low against her stomach. One of her hands was tangled in his shirt.
He hadn't moved in almost an hour.
But he wasn't sleeping.
His eyes were open.
Thinking.
Because staying here… in her apartment… overnight… felt different.
More real.
More dangerous.
More permanent.
Slowly, he adjusted, lifting her gently and carrying her to her bedroom.
She stirred slightly.
"Keif…" she murmured half-asleep.
"I'm here," he whispered.
He laid her down carefully, pulling the blanket over her.
She caught his wrist before he could pull away.
"Don't go."
His jaw tightened.
"I'm not."
But he didn't get into the bed.
He pulled a chair closer and sat beside her instead.
She frowned sleepily. "Why are you sitting there?"
"Because you need rest."
"And?"
"And nothing."
She studied him through sleepy eyes.
"You're scared."
He went still.
"I'm not scared."
"You are."
A pause.
Her fingers tightened around his hand.
"You act like if you get too close, you'll lose control."
His voice dropped. "Jay."
"I'm your girlfriend," she whispered. "Not a glass thing that will break."
That hit.
He leaned forward slightly.
"You don't understand."
"Then make me."
Silence.
Heavy.
He exhaled slowly.
"When I care about something," he said quietly, "I become reckless."
She blinked.
"My enemies don't play fair. My father doesn't play fair. The more you're near me… the more exposed you are."
She pushed herself up slowly despite the discomfort.
"I already chose you."
His eyes darkened.
"You didn't choose what comes with me."
"I don't care."
He stood up then, frustration mixing with something deeper.
"You should."
"Why?" she challenged softly.
"Because I would burn the world for you."
The room went silent.
Her breath caught.
He didn't look like he was exaggerating.
He looked like he meant it.
Completely.
She stood up slowly and walked toward him.
He didn't move.
She stopped inches away.
"You think I don't know that?" she whispered.
His jaw tightened.
She reached up and grabbed his collar gently.
"You think that scares me?"
"It should."
"It doesn't."
She pulled him down slightly.
"If the world burns," she said softly, "I'm standing next to you."
Something in him snapped.
Not anger.
Not lust.
Something deeper.
He cupped her face suddenly and kissed her.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
But intense.
Slow.
Possessive.
Like he was trying to memorize her.
Her hands slid up his chest, gripping his shirt tighter.
He deepened it just slightly.
Enough to make her knees weaken.
Enough to make her heart race.
But then—
He stopped.
Pulled back.
Forehead resting against hers.
Breathing uneven.
"If you weren't in pain right now…" he muttered.
She smiled faintly.
"Then what?"
His thumb brushed her lower lip.
"Then I wouldn't be this controlled."
Her cheeks flushed.
But he stepped back.
Creating distance.
Not because he didn't want her.
But because he did.
Too much.
"Sleep," he said again, softer this time.
She watched him.
"You're staying?"
"Yes."
"On the chair?"
"For now."
She smiled slightly and lay back down.
And this time—
He didn't sit on the chair.
He lay beside her.
Not too close.
Not too far.
One arm around her waist.
Careful.
Controlled.
But claiming.
And as she fell asleep again…
He stared at the ceiling.
Realizing something dangerous.
He wasn't protecting her from his world anymore.
He was protecting his world from what he would do for her.