Elena's POV
Morning crept in slowly.
Light filtered through the curtains, brushing across the room like it was afraid to wake us.
I was already awake.
Lying there.
Listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
Julian's arm was around me. Loose. Familiar.
And for the first time in a long time—I didn't feel like I had to run.
I turned a little, careful not to wake him.
His face was peaceful. The kind of peace you don't fake.
The kind I used to know… before the world fell apart.
And somehow, in this small bubble of stillness, I forgot about Derick.
About Mariah.
About the flash drive.
The threats.
The war I was still fighting.
For just a second, all I felt was safe.
But seconds don't last.
And safety doesn't come free.
I slipped out of bed quietly. Found one of his shirts. Buttoned it slowly.
My movements were quiet, careful—like I didn't want to disturb the silence we'd built overnight.
But inside? I was already breaking it.
