Ethan’s POV
I was still talking, letting the words spill out—something about how I once knocked over a window with a ball and blamed it on a ghost—when I noticed the silence. Not the kind where someone’s thinking. This one was softer. Still. The kind of silence that wraps around the room like a warm blanket.
I turned to look at Elle, expecting her to roll her eyes at my lame childhood story or flash one of her little smirks.
But she was gone.
Not really gone—just asleep.
Her head was leaned back against the arm of the couch, resting at a gentle angle. One hand was curled close to her chest, her other arm dangling loosely by her side. Her legs were folded under her.
She looked peaceful. So peaceful that my chest ached a little just looking at her.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, and
