The silence in the room was heavy, almost suffocating. It stood in stark contrast to the chaotic sensory overload of the dinner just a few hours earlier. He lay in his bed, the room shrouded in darkness, save for the faint neon-blue glow of the city filtering through the blinds. Fatigue from the allergic reaction still clung to him, a lingering, heavy poison in his limbs that made every breath feel labored. His throat was raw a stinging reminder of the panic that had seized him at the restaurant.
He tried to sleep, to force his overworked mind to shut down, but the images replayed relentlessly behind his eyelids. The sudden, terrifying tightening in his chest. The panicked faces of his colleagues. And then Roman. The way Roman had carried him out, his strength immense and grounding, acting as if Jay was the only thing in the world that mattered. That memory stirred a confusing mix of warmth, safety, and a terrifyingly deep affection Jay wasn't ready to confront.
