Chapter 63 CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 63
YAEL
We fell asleep tangled in the blankets, the fairy lights dimmed to a soft glow, the treehouse quiet except for the faint rustle of wind in the branches outside. Knox’s arms were wrapped around me from behind, his chest warm against my back, one hand splayed possessively over my stomach. I could feel his steady breathing, slow and deep, and it pulled me under fast.
Sleep came easily, then the nightmare.
His voice—sharp, yelling my name like a curse. Hands grabbing my arms too hard, fingers digging in until I bruised. “You think you can leave?” he snarled in the dream, face twisted with rage. I was smaller, trapped, trying to pull away but couldn’t. The room spun, walls closing in, his grip tightening—
I jolted awake with a gasp, body jerking hard enough to shake the blankets.
My heart slammed against my ribs, lungs burning like I couldn’t get air. I was shaking—actually shaking—sweat cold on my skin.
Knox woke instantly, arms tightening around me.
“Hey—hey—baby,” he whispered, voice rough with sleep but urgent. “Yael, I’ve got you. You’re here. You’re safe.”
I couldn’t speak. Just hyperventilated, chest heaving too fast, hands clutching at the blankets like they could anchor me.
He rolled me toward him gently, pulling me fully into his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other rubbing slow circles on my back.
“Breathe with me, princess,” he murmured against my hair. “In slow—out slow. I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
I buried my face in his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him—clean skin, faint cologne, us. My fingers fisted in his shirt.
“I’ve got you,” he kept whispering, over and over, rocking us slightly. “You’re okay. You’re safe with me. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”
The words sank in slowly, like warm water over ice. My breathing started to even out, shaky at first, then steadier.
“That’s it,” he said softly. “Good girl. Just like that. In and out.”
I nodded against his skin, still trembling but less violently now.
“You’re here,” he continued, lips brushing my temple. “You’re in the treehouse. With me. No one else. Just us.”
I made a small sound—half sob, half relief—and clung tighter.
He kissed my forehead, lingering there. “I’ve got you, baby. Always.”
Minutes passed. Maybe longer. He didn’t stop rocking, didn’t stop whispering.
“You don’t have to talk,” he said quietly. “Not if you don’t want to. Just let me hold you.”
I didn’t talk. Couldn’t. The dream was still too close, clinging like smoke.
Instead, I pressed closer, face hidden in the curve of his neck, breathing him in until the shaking finally stopped.
He kept one hand in my hair, stroking gently. “You’re safe,” he repeated, softer now. “I’m not letting go. Not ever.”
I nodded again, small and exhausted.
“You want water?” he asked. “Or just this?”
“This,” I whispered, voice cracked and raw.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Just this.”
He pulled the blanket higher around us, tucking it under my chin, then wrapped me up even tighter.
I made another soft sound, fingers loosening their death grip on his shirt, sliding up to rest over his heart instead.
He kissed my forehead again. “Sleep if you can, princess. I’ll be awake. Watching over you.”
“You don’t have to—” I started, voice barely there.
“I want to,” he cut in gently. “Need to. Let me take care of you tonight.”
I didn’t argue. Just nodded, eyes closing as the last of the panic ebbed away.
“You’re okay,” he whispered one more time. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
His hand kept stroking my hair, slow and steady, until my breathing matched his again.
I drifted—not fully asleep, but close—aware of every point where our bodies touched, anchored by his warmth.
Hours passed. I stirred once or twice, and each time his arms tightened immediately.
“Still here,” he’d murmur. “Not going anywhere.”
At some point near dawn, I finally relaxed completely, body heavy against his.
He kissed my forehead again, lips lingering.
“Sleep, baby,” he whispered.
By the time the first real light hit the treehouse, I was sleeping deeply again—no more dreams, just peace.
He smiled faintly, brushing hair from my face, and settled in to wait for me to wake up on my own.
Because that’s what he did.
He stayed.
Later, Knox had walked me back to my dorm at dawn, kissing me slowly and deep at the door, whispering “Text me after class, princess” before disappearing toward his own building. I’d floated through my shower and getting ready, still wrapped in the warmth of last night, even if the nightmare lingered in the back of my mind like a bruise.
I met Mia outside the political science building fifteen minutes before our 9 a.m. seminar. Jordan and Liam were already saving seats inside, but Mia was usually the one bouncing up to me, talking a mile a minute about coffee or gossip or whatever drama she’d scrolled through that morning.
Today she wasn’t.
She stood by the steps, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the ground. No smile. No chatter. Just… quiet.
“Hey,” I said softly, bumping her shoulder. “You okay?”
She nodded too fast. “Yeah. Fine. Just tired.”
I didn’t buy it. Mia didn’t do quiet.
We filed into class and took our usual row—me beside Mia, Jordan on my other side doodling in her notebook, Liam behind us kicking the back of my chair until I swatted him. Professor Harlan started droning about international relations theory, but I couldn’t focus. Mia kept staring at her blank notebook, pen tapping slow and rhythmic against the page.
Halfway through, I nudged her. “You sure you’re good?”
She gave me a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m good. Promise.”
Class dragged on. When the lecture finally ended, everyone started packing up, but Mia stayed seated.
I waited until the room mostly cleared, then grabbed her arm gently. “Come on. Outside. Now.”
She didn’t fight me. We slipped into the hallway and I pulled her into an empty alcove near the vending machines.
“Mia,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Talk to me. You haven’t said more than ten words all morning. That’s not you.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then her face just… crumpled.
Her shoulders started shaking and tears spilled over before she could stop them.
“Oh my God—Mia—” I pulled her into a hug instantly, arms tight around her.
She cried quietly into my shoulder, trying to keep it together but failing.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice muffled. “I didn’t want to do this here.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said fiercely. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
She nodded against me, but didn’t say anything else. No explanation. Just tears.
After a minute she pulled back, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I can’t… I can’t talk about it yet.”
“That’s okay,” I said softly. “You don’t have to.”
I pulled out my phone and texted the group chat.
I looked at Mia. “We’re going back to my room. No arguments.”
She nodded, still sniffling.
We walked in silence, my arm around her shoulders the whole way. Once we were inside my dorm, I locked the door, kicked off my shoes, and steered her straight to my bed.
“Sit,” I ordered gently. “I’m making tea.”
She curled up against the headboard, hugging a pillow to her chest.
I heated water in my little electric kettle, grabbed the chamomile, and made two mugs. Then I dug through my snack stash—chocolate, chips, those gummy worms she loved—and piled them on the bed.
“Eat something,” I said, handing her a mug and a chocolate bar. “Please.”
She took them with shaky hands. “Thanks, Yael.”
“Always.”
We sat in silence for a bit, sipping tea, her nibbling on chocolate. I didn’t push. Just stayed close.
Twenty minutes later, the door opened—Jordan and Liam letting themselves in.
Jordan took one look at Mia and dropped the bags of snacks. “Oh, babe.”
She climbed onto the bed and pulled Mia into a hug without asking questions.
Liam hovered by the door, looking worried. “Hey, Mi.”
Mia managed a watery smile. “Hi.”
I caught Liam’s eye and nodded toward the hallway. We stepped out.
“What happened?” I whispered. “She won’t say anything.”
Liam rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the closed door. “It’s… her mom. But I can't say anything. It's her story to tell.”
My stomach dropped.
I closed my eyes. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” Liam sighed. “She hasn’t said much to me either, but I know it’s bad.”
I nodded. “Okay. We’ve got her tonight.”
“Always,” he said.
We went back in. Jordan had already wrapped Mia in the fuzzy pink blanket from her own dorm, and they were curled up together.
Liam dropped onto the floor with the snacks, starting to sort them like it was his job.
“Alright,” Jordan announced, grabbing the remote. “Movie marathon. No sad shit. We’re doing rom-coms and only rom-coms.”
Mia let out a wet laugh. “You hate rom-coms.”
“Tonight I love them,” Jordan said firmly. “Starting with 10 Things I Hate About You.”
I queued it up on my laptop, propping it at the foot of the bed so we could all see.
Liam passed around chips. “Extra salt for emotional health.”
Mia took a handful. “Thanks, Liam.”
We settled in—me on one side of Mia, Jordan on the other, Liam stretched out on the floor with his head against the bed frame.
Halfway through the movie, Mia finally spoke.
“You guys don’t have to babysit me.”
“We’re not babysitting,” I said, bumping her shoulder. “We’re hanging out. Big difference.”
Jordan nodded. “Exactly. And Heath Ledger is about to sing. You can’t miss this.”
Mia smiled—a real one this time, small but genuine.
When the song scene hit, we all sang along badly. Liam did the dramatic falsetto. Jordan threw popcorn at the screen. I squeezed Mia’s hand.
By the third movie—To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before—Mia was leaning on my shoulder, eyes heavy.
“You tired?” I whispered.
“A little,” she admitted.
“Then sleep,” Jordan said. “We’ll be right here.”
Liam dimmed the lights with his phone. “Volume low. Ambient noise only.”
Mia’s voice was barely audible. “You guys are the best.”
“We know,” I teased softly.
She laughed once, quiet, then closed her eyes.
We kept the movies going long after she drifted off—volume almost silent, just the glow of the screen and the sound of her steady breathing.
Jordan reached over and squeezed my hand. “She’ll be okay.”