Sleep refused to come easily that night, and even when it finally did, it felt shallow, fragmented, as if my mind had never fully agreed to rest in the first place.
By the time I opened my eyes again, the forest was already awake, light filtering softly through the branches, carrying with it the quiet certainty of a new day. And yet, nothing inside me felt renewed.
If anything, the thoughts I had tried to ignore the night before had only grown sharper.
I sat at the edge of the clearing, my back resting lightly against the trunk of a tree, my gaze fixed somewhere ahead without truly seeing what was there.
The memory of Rowan lingered far more than it should have, replaying itself in small, persistent fragments that refused to settle into something harmless.
It wasn't just what he had said.
It was how he had looked at me.
