#Chapter 33: Thin Ice

I woke up in my own bed, but I wasn’t alone. Richard’s arm was draped around my waist—heavy, warm, completely unconscious. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, his breath soft and even against my skin. For a second, I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My brain short-circuited with the fact that this had never happened—not like this. Not here. He’d fallen asleep on the far side of my bed last night, after I'd spent hours combing through war records and troop logs, my brain too wired to rest. I hadn’t expected him to stay—although he had been more drawn to my bed recently. In his bed, lines blurred sometimes, especially in the quiet of late nights. But in mine, it always felt like he was careful. Like this space belonged to me in a different way, and he didn’t want to cross too far into something that was mine. That, somehow, it would mean more. But here he was. And maybe he didn’t even know. I’d struggled to fall asleep. My thoughts had been restless, wound tight—not just from th