The sun started to set on the large, open windows of Knox's room. He was right. It was a beautiful place, not nearly as big as Eros's, but it lacked the tension. It was cosy, homely, and I found Knox's love for flowers and soft pillows.

We finished arranging my stuff, and I watched on the edge of the laid bed as he brought a few large vases from his place to mind, decorating the emptied place with flowers.

"You are injured, Knox," I reminded him, my eyes sweeping over his face and his ...