CYAN
The sun was finally climbing high enough to slice thin, pale fingers of light through the gaps in the heavy drapes.
I woke up slow, my eyes blinking heavy against the dim shadows of the living room.
For a brief, stupid second, I didn't want to move a muscle. I was warm. I was wrapped in a soft, heavy duvet, lying on a makeshift nest of cushions beside the couch, and my face was pressed right against the familiar, solid wall of Cassian's chest.
His arm was locked tight around my waist, holding me flush against him like he was terrified I'd slip away if he loosened his grip even an inch.
My heart did a soft, stupid little flip inside my chest.
All the heavy, jagged panic that usually greeted me the second I opened my eyes was gone. The dark shadow in the corner of my bedroom, the voices hissing that I was broken and unlovable, they weren't there.
There was just the steady, rhythmic thump of Cassian's heartbeat beneath my ear and the clean, faint scent of his skin.
