A Kiss For Every Bruise
Adrian had always said it caught light the way truth did, quietly and honestly.
My fingers curled into fists at my sides. Six years....
Six years since he had laid the sketches out on the table between us, late at night, sleeves rolled up, eyes bright with that rare softness he only showed me.
"Not yet," he had said then. "These are for when the world is quieter. This will be your wedding gift. And I will only craft this pair and no one else in the world will have it." The world had burned instead.
Julian leaned closer. “You like those?” “Yes,” I said, and my voice didn’t shake. “Those.” Dr. Weston stepped nearer, peering at the price card. Her brows lifted, just a fraction. “They’re… modest
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