~ Jonathan’s POV ~She’s asleep.Not fully. Not peacefully.But her head is still on my shoulder, and her breathing’s evened out enough to tell me she’s slipped into something close to rest. Maybe exhaustion forced it. Maybe the fire lulled her into something safe for once.I haven’t moved.Not in over an hour.My arm is numb, and my shirt is sticking to the gash on my shoulder, but I don’t care.Because Seraphina Puckett is leaning on me like I’m not the boy who used to make her cry in the school hallways. Like I’m not the one who once called her a ghost behind her back, because she always looked like she was floating through the world, silent and distant.I was such a coward back then. Picking at her because I didn’t know what else to do with the ache she gave me.And now she’s bleeding and shaking and scared, and I’d burn the whole world down to keep her safe.Her fingers twitch against the blanket. Like she’s still fighting something in her sleep.I hate that for her.I hate that
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