(LIAM'S POV)
I had never felt so happy in my life.
The thought came to me unbidden as I sat there on the couch, my body still trembling with the aftershocks of exhaustion, my mind still reeling from everything that had happened. But despite the chaos, despite the fear, despite the trauma of the past three days, there was a warmth blooming in my chest that I couldn't deny.
I was home.
I was 'safe'.
And for the first time in my twenty-three years of existence, I had people who actually gave a damn whether I lived or died.
It was a strange feeling. Foreign. Uncomfortable. Like wearing a coat that didn't quite fit, but felt too warm to take off.
I had spent my entire life building walls around my heart. Brick by brick, layer by layer, I had fortified myself against the possibility of love, of acceptance, of happiness. Because I had learned early on that the world didn't love people like me.
My father had made that abundantly clear.
