= Mikael =
“Dinner’s—”
The words never made it past my throat.
The moment I nudged her door open and stepped inside, the rest of the sentence crumbled into nothing. It didn’t matter anymore. Because there she was.
Amara.
Sprawled across the bed in a way that made it impossible to look away. Her body teetered on the line between rest and utter collapse. Half of her sank into the mattress while her bare feet brushed the floor, toes curling slightly as if even gravity had decided to pull at her unevenly. She hadn’t even managed to fully settle before exhaustion had claimed her completely.
Her robe hung loose, slightly undone, slipping carelessly from one shoulder. One arm was flung across her eyes, shielding herself from the world—or maybe from the weight of it all. The quiet vulnerabil
