Chapter Thirty three

The silence of the room pressed in on me, broken only by the frantic thump-thump-thump of my own heart. Curled on my side, I could practically feel the mattress indent as Damian rolled closer, his warmth radiating through the thin sheet. A blush crept up my neck, staining my cheeks as his arm brushed against mine. My breath hitched. This wasn't unusual; these late-night tangles were a nightly occurrence. Yet, tonight, something felt different.

With a whispered apology forming in my throat, I reached out, my fingers brushing his lightly. "Damian," I murmured, my voice barely a breath. He mumbled something incoherent, burrowing deeper into the pillows. Chewing on my lip, I decided a gentler approach was necessary. Tentatively, I began to inch his arm away, my movements slow and deliberate as if defusing a bomb. Thankfully, a contented sigh escaped him, and his arm fell limp. Relief washed over me, warm and sweet.