CLAUDE
I WOKE UP with a sharp gasp, chest rising too fast like I’d been yanked out of the ocean. My skin was damp, the sheets stuck to me, but none of it mattered. The bed was empty.
My hand reached over instinctively, searching the space where he should’ve been. Nothing. Just cold fabric.
“Nikolai,” I said, voice rough, too quiet.
Fear started to build. Not loud or dramatic—just quick that my heart thudded hard, fast, like it knew something my brain hadn’t caught up to yet. I pushed the sheets off, stumbled out of bed, legs stiff and shaky. My hand hit the door and shoved it open. It slammed against the wall, but I didn’t care.
What if last night wasn’t real? What if I dreamed it—him, his hands, his voice, the way he looked at me? What if I’d made the whole thing up because five mont
