Henry kicked the door open with the side of his foot, his arms still wrapped tightly around me.
The hallway light was dim, casting soft shadows on the floor as he walked. My fingers clutched at his shirt, my heart pounding as loud as thunder in my ears.
It wasn't fear. It wasn't even nerves.
It was anticipation.
Something I hadn't let myself feel in a long time.
He walked into the room and gently placed me on the bed like I was something delicate, something breakable.
And maybe I still was.
But right now, with his eyes locked on mine and his fingers softly brushing hair away from my face, I didn't feel like shattered glass. I felt wanted. I felt whole.
Henry didn't rush. He stood above me, breathing hard, eyes scanning me like I was the answer to something he'd been trying to figure out for years.
Slowly, he pulled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, the dim light carving shadows along his muscles.
