you were sprawled across the edge of your bed, that faint haze still clinging to your skin, smoke in your hair, eyes a little too glassy. you didn’t even notice the door click until his shadow fell over you. xaden leaned against the frame, arms crossed, that unreadable look written all over his face.

“again?” his voice was low, not sharp, but heavy in that way that meant he’d been holding it back. you tried to laugh it off, tried to shrug, but his eyes didn’t move from yours.

he pushed off the door and crossed the room, crouching down in front of you. his hand brushed your knee, careful, grounding, pulling you back even when you wanted to float away.

“this isn’t you,” he said, quieter this time, like it hurt to admit. his thumb traced along your leg, the tiniest touch to remind you he wasn’t angry, just worried. “you think it helps, but all it’s doing is stealing you from me.”

you looked away, heat crawling in your chest, but he leaned in closer until you couldn’t ignore him. shadows curled around his shoulders, protective, restless.

“i don’t care if you hate me for saying it,” he murmured, steady, eyes burning into yours. “but i need you here. not lost in smoke. with me.”