Trapped Between My Adoptive Brothers
Snowlit Madrigal
The soft morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting long, pale rays across the bedroom. I stirred lazily, shifting against the sheets, expecting to feel the solid warmth and heavy arm of Damon wrapped around my waist. Instead, the space beside me was empty. The mattress was cold. I sat up, pushing my tangled hair out of my face. The events of last night rushed back into my head—the hidden camera, the quiet confrontation, Damon kneeling before me, and the comforting, secure hold he offered all through the night. A subtle, quiet warmth settled in my chest.