Deniz pushes the bedroom door open with his shoulder, still cradling me in his arms like I'm made of something breakable. My heart hammers against my ribs, a wild, frantic rhythm I can't control.
I stare up at him, at the soft light catching the edges of his jaw, at the dark eyes fixed on something ahead, something I can't see.
He lays me on the bed. Gently. Reverently. The sheets are cool beneath me, a soft sigh of fabric welcoming my weight. I keep staring at him, my cheeks already warming, my breath shallow.
He leans down.
His lips find mine. Soft. Warm. A kiss that tastes like a question, like a promise, like the beginning of something.
I close my eyes. My lips part, just slightly, hoping for more.
Hoping he'll stay. Hoping—
He pulls the blanket up. Tucks it around my shoulders. The warmth envelops me, but it's not the warmth I wanted.
My eyes snap open.
Deniz straightens. His hand lingers on the blanket for a moment, then drops.
