Page 75 of Beautiful Scars

I expect a thousand things from him then, but I don’t expect his next question.

“Did you like your fort?”

For a moment, I have no idea what he’s talking about. He cocks his head to the side, pointing behind us. “That mess you made with the blankets, your little hidey-hole.”

“The one you destroyed?” My voice should have been bitter. Instead, it just sounds tired. Resigned.

“Aye,” he murmurs, shifting his weight and creating space between our bodies. “Do you want me to build a better one for you?”

I stare up at him? Do I? I don’t know.

He doesn’t wait for my answer. He slinks off the bed like a cat, and I should be glad about that.

But I’m not.

I already miss his warmth.

Without him, it would be too easy to succumb to the cold.