Harper lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling as the moments from the library replayed in her mind. No matter how hard she tried to push them away, Damian's words kept circling back.
It had started with their usual banter but somehow it had shifted. She had let her guard slip. She'd told him about her father, about the disappointment that weighed on her shoulders like chains.
And instead of mocking her, Damian had listened.
The memory of his blue eyes holding hers made Harper shift uncomfortably under her blanket. It wasn't just the color; it was the way he had looked at her, like he actually saw her. That unsettled her more than anything. He wasn't supposed to make her feel like that. He wasn't supposed to feel… safe.
Then there was that question. Who even are you?
The way he'd asked it had knocked the air from her chest. It was almost as if he hadn't meant to say it out loud, but once he had, it lingered, pressing against her thoughts even now.
