His fingers tighten slightly around my wrist—not painful, just impossible to ignore.
"Deniz, wait—"
He leans closer. His presence fills my space, calm and absolute.
"Don't move."
Before I can react, the needle pierces my neck vein.
"A—ahh!"
The sound rips out of me before pride can stop it. My eyes squeeze shut, shoulders tensing, breath breaking apart like I'm bracing for something brutal. Fear flashes first—sharp, instinctive—dragged straight from childhood.
I wait for the pain.
It never comes.
There is only a brief sting. A warm pressure. Nothing more. Like an ant bite beneath the skin—annoying, fleeting, almost gentle.
I freeze.
My lashes lift slowly.
Deniz is watching me.
Not startled. Not amused. Just quietly observing, dark eyes steady, hand firm at my wrist. The contrast makes my stomach twist harder than the needle ever did.
Heat creeps up my neck. My ears burn. Damn it.
"It's…" I swallow, forcing a smile that feels too tight, too obvious. "It's not hurting."
