-Ryland Grayson:
Vaughn looked at me for a long moment after I spoke.
Too long.
Like the words were still settling, still being weighed against whatever was happening inside his head. His breathing hadn't stabilized properly yet, shoulders still tense under the blanket, face flushed in a way that hadn't fully faded. Even the silence between us felt unstable, like it could tip again in either direction without warning.
Then he moved.
Slowly at first.
He pushed himself up from the bed, unsteady for a second before he steadied himself again, like his body was arguing with him about every decision he made. The shift made my instincts spike immediately, and I instinctively stepped back half a pace without meaning to.
"No," I said at once, sharper than intended.
His eyes lifted to mine.
Still clouded.
Still not fully grounded.
"I don't care," he said quietly, voice rough. "I want this."
The words hit wrong immediately.
