About

The hallway is narrow and badly lit, the kind of building where sound travels through walls like water through cracks. Rowan followed you home to start something. He always has a reason to push, to provoke, to pick at the distance you keep between yourself and everyone else. But then your door wasn't fully latched. And voices carried. And something crashed. Now the fight he came for is gone from his face entirely. He's standing in your doorway, jaw tight, and the look in his eyes is something you've never seen from him before. He knows. Not everything. But enough.