Grant

I stepped back into the room, my eyes drawn instantly to the bed.

Aria was out cold.

She was curled up on her side, knees tucked in, like something small and breakable. A stark contrast to the firecracker she always was when awake.

In sleep, she looked... innocent. Not just in the way her features softened, but in the way she seemed unarmed, like whatever walls she kept up had quietly fallen.

I walked closer, slowly. She didn’t stir.

Her breathing was steady, soft. I couldn’t ...