The steady rhythm of rain beat against the window, accompanied by the occasional rumble of distant thunder. You’d always loved the rain—usually. But tonight, it felt different. The weight pressing down on your chest was harder to ignore, and the quiet had become too loud.

You hadn’t meant to sit in the dark for so long. Hours must’ve passed since you’d curled up on the couch, wrapped in the throw blanket that still smelled faintly of Price. His scent was usually enough to calm you. But tonight? Tonight, it wasn’t enough.

“Love?”

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a lifeline. You hadn’t even heard the front door open.

“Hey.” Your voice was quieter than you intended, and you didn’t trust yourself to say more.

Price’s silhouette moved closer, the dim glow of the streetlights catching the silver in his beard as he crouched down beside you. His blue eyes—gentle and searching—immediately honed in on yours.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” His fingers brushed over your hand, warm and grounding. “What’s got you all locked up in that head of yours?”

You wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come. It was easier to shake your head, eyes dropping to where his thumb traced lazy circles against your skin.

Price didn’t push. He never did.

“Alright,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Come here, then.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

Before you could think twice, you were sinking into his arms, pressing your face into the familiar space between his neck and shoulder. The scent of him—leather, tobacco, and something distinctly him—wrapped around you like a shield, keeping the rest of the world at bay.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his hand stroking down your back in slow, steady passes. “I’ve got you.”