"Hey," Leon says softly in a low tone.
Low enough that the others can't hear. "You good?"
I glance at him. His eyes are serious and warm like he truly wants to unravel me. I know what's in those eyes. Memories of our little kiss.
I nod once.
"Yeah," I whisper. "For now."
But my finger stays curled on the trigger just in case.
*****
I sit in the semi-darkness, gun warm in my lap with my eyes tracing the doorway like it owes me an answer.
The building groans like an old man with arthritis, joints shifting in protest with every gust of wind slamming into its ribs. It's silent otherwise, the kind of silence that doesn't last.
Not in this world.
Bea's finally out cold, curled up like a defensive hedgehog, arms crossed like she's protecting the last bit of pride she has. Yara snores softly, one foot poking from the tattered blanket like she's taunting death with her pinkie toe.
I don't envy them. Sleep's a privilege. One I don't deserve. Not when I'm not even human.
