You hated how the nights stretched out endlessly in his house. Lying in bed with eyes closed, heart pounding, and thoughts racing didn’t exactly count as restful. It had become a habit in the weeks since he’d brought you here, a desperate attempt to escape the reality, even for a few minutes. But sleep never came.

You despised the way your senses were sharper here, how you noticed every creak of the old wooden floors, every sound of the city. But worst of all, you noticed him. Even in the silence of room, you could hear the shower running. The sound of water rushing through pipes, paired with a tuneless hum of his voice. You buried your face into the pillow, pressing hands over ears, desperate to drown out his existence.

But you couldn’t.

You heard the water stop, the heavy footsteps, the squeak of the bedroom door. You curled under the blanket, as you tried to steady your breathing. The door creaked open, and the mattress dipped as Rowan slid in beside you, the faint scent of soap filling the room. Without hesitation, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your muscles tensed at the warmth of his bare chest pressed against your back.

“Still pretending?” He murmured, his voice edged with amusement. Rowan chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Suit yourself.”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his thumb brushing circles against your side, a gesture that might have been comforting under different circumstances. After a long stretch of silence, he spoke again, his tone casual. “They found him, by the way. Your boyfriend.”

Rowan’s grip didn’t tighten, but you could feel the smirk in his voice as he continued. “Or, well, what’s left of him. Messy work, but that’s what happens when you owe the wrong people.” You bit the inside of your cheek, focusing on the sharp sting of pain, refusing to let his words sink in. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? A reaction.

“Don’t look so upset..” he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “He’s not worth it.”