Arturo’s eyes were soft. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he whispered, leaning forward to run his fingers over the top of my hand. I shrugged. It was traumatic, for sure. I’d had nightmares afterwards. I was terrified someone was going to sneak into my room again, and I used to cry myself to sleep until Aleksandr came and slept on my bedroom floor. He promised to watch over me during the night and not let anyone hurt me. For months, he had slept on a crappy air mattress at the foot of my bed until I was better.
Stop it, the brotherly protection is too sweet 🥹
