His hand comes out, catching me, pulling me into him in one solid movement, like he needs it, like he can’t not.
And then he buries his face in my neck and inhales deeply, like my scent is the only thing grounding him.
“It’s just a graze,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rougher than usual, lower, like it’s been dragged through everything he just walked out of. “I’m okay.”
I can feel it.
The tension in him. It hasn’t left him. Not even close.
“Let me look at it,” I say softly, pulling back just enough to see him, my hands already moving toward his arm.
“I’m fine, Lia,” he says, but it’s quieter now, more strained. “I just… need to hold you.”
The words land differently. Not dismissive. Not avoiding. Just… honest. I soften.
Let myself sink into him for a moment, my arms wrapping around him, feeling the way his body is still tight, still coiled, like everything he just walked through is still sitting just beneath the surface.
He doesn’t relax. Not fully. I feel it.
So I pull back again, just enough to look at him.
“What do you need?” I ask softly.
His gaze locks onto mine and for a second, he just looks at me. Like he’s trying to decide something. Or maybe like something in him is already decided and he’s just catching up to it.
“You,” he says.
The word is quiet.
But it lands heavy.
I smile, soft, grounding, my hands coming up to cup his face, brushing away a streak of dirt, of blood, of everything he’s just been through.
“I’m right here,” I whisper.
A beat.
Then, softer...
“Take me.”
Something in him breaks. I feel it. See it. The shift is immediate.
His hands slide under my thighs without hesitation, lifting me clean off the ground, my body rising with him as I wrap around him instinctively, my arms coming around his neck.
I kiss him first.
Soft, then deeper. Because I know what this is. I know what he needs. This isn’t gentle. This isn’t slow. This is release. This is him trying to come back from everything he just stepped into.
He moves with me, carrying me with ease, pressing me back against the wall, his body following immediately, caging me in, grounding me, claiming space around me like it belongs to him.
His mouth crashes into mine.
Not hesitant.
Not careful.
Hungry.
