Ruined By Mr. Cross
Danger had always done this to us, stripped away everything except how much I needed her close.
“You’re bleeding,” she said, nodding toward my hand where a sliver of glass had cut my palm without my realizing it.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” She took my hand in both of hers, turning it toward the light, her thumb brushing along the edge of the cut. For a moment the room, Naomi, Gabriel, all of it fell away, and there was only her touch, gentle in a way entirely at odds with the chaos around us. “You never tell me when you’re hurt.”
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