I woke up slowly, feeling the soft warmth of Elena curled beside me. Her presence was always soothing, like a calm whisper in the chaos of everything else.
But even as I blinked myself fully awake, I could sense something was wrong. She wasn't fully relaxed. Her body was tense, even in sleep, her breathing too shallow.
I turned slightly, careful not to wake her, and studied her face. Her lips were slightly parted, and her long lashes fluttered against her pale skin. But there was a faint furrow between her brows, a trace of the fear that lingered even now.
She had told me about the nightmare, tried to brush it off like it was nothing, but I could feel it—she was scared. And I hated that. I hated knowing that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't completely shield her from all of this.