Sairis's POV
Sairis did not know how long he had been lying in Loreen's arms.
Time had stopped making sense somewhere between the tears and the exhaustion that had settled deep into his bones.
He had drifted in and out of sleep at some point, he was sure of it, because there were gaps in his memory where the warmth of Loreen's chest had blurred into something soft and distant before pulling him back again.
His eyes were swollen and heavy. His chest still ached in that dull, hollow way it always did after he had wept too hard for too long.
He did not speak. He could not.
The words were somewhere inside him but they were tangled up in everything else, in the fear and the relief and the shame and the confusion, and pulling them free felt like more than he could manage right now.
Loreen had not pushed him. That was the thing about Loreen that Sairis had not expected.
The man was loud and impatient in everything aside sex, but right now he was just still.
