Cassidy
It was barely morning when I heard the door creak open.
The soft crunch of boots on tiles. The familiar scent of pine, wild air, and something unmistakably him hit me before I even saw his face.
Kieran.
He stepped into the room, worn and tired, strands of his black hair falling loose around his eyes indicating his need of a haircut. His shirt was stained with dirt and sweat, his arms still dusted with dried mud. His eyes, though—those deep grey eyes—lit up the second they found me.
I didn't hesitate.
I ran.
He barely had time to close the door behind him before I collided with his chest, arms wrapping tight around his neck as I jumped into him. He caught me easily, letting out a low grunt of surprise before his arms locked around my waist.
"Missed me?" he murmured, voice hoarse with sleep and travel and something darker.
"You have no idea," I breathed.
