“You don’t even know how to take care of yourself,” he said, his voice low but edged with something unyielding. His eyes didn’t waver sharp, piercing yet beneath that intensity lay a quiet tenderness that struck deeper than any harsh word ever could. 

His fingers grazed her arm. Slow and intentional. 

As though she were something fragile. As though even the thought of her pain was unacceptable. 

“Don’t you understand?” he murmured, softer now. “Your body… it’s not something to neglect. It’s precious.” 

For a heartbeat, the world stilled. 

Her pulse erupted. 

It pounded wildly against her ribs, each breath catching, burning, unraveling her composure piece by piece. Heat flooded...