DANTE’S POV

The morning sun crept through the half-opened windows. Casting long silver hues on my skin. I lay still, my gaze fixed on the window, but my thoughts... my thoughts were anything but calm, almost pulling my brain to my body.

On the outside, I was motionless, held together. But under that shell was a storm. Whirling, unrelenting chaos.

Some mornings waking up, it felt like everything would get better soon. That the strain is pulling, it feels like I'm healing. But they never ...