Chapter 105 Garrett
Garrett
I woke up warm. That was the first thing I noticed. Something soft and steady pressed against my side, heat seeping through the sheets, carrying a scent so familiar that even through the fog of painkillers and exhaustion, my body knew it before my brain did.
Aslan.
For one suspended second, a smile pulled at my mouth. It had to be a dream. Probably the meds. The concussion. The painkillers still swimming in my bloodstream and fucking with my head. That was the only explanation for why he felt this close, why every breath I took was full of that clean, maddeningly comforting scent that had been haunting me for months.
Before I could think better of it, I shifted toward the warmth, letting myself sink into it for one selfish second. Fuck, I had missed this. Not this exactly—because this had never happened—but him. The feeling of him close to me. The strange, fucked-up calm that always settled over the world whenever Aslan was close enough to touch.
Then I opened my eyes, and everything in me locked up.
What the fuck…?
I blinked hard, convinced my brain was still playing tricks on me, but it wasn’t. Aslan was there, actually fucking there, curled beside me on top of the covers, one hand resting dangerously close to mine, dark hair falling across his forehead, his face stripped completely bare by sleep. Soft. Peaceful.
Mine—
No. I killed that thought the second it formed.
For a moment, I just stared at him, trying to make sense of what the hell I was seeing. How had he ended up here? Had I dreamed last night too? Had I said something? Done something? Memory came back in broken shards—the hospital, the ride back, the pain, the blur of voices—but everything after that was fractured beyond repair.
I didn’t move. I barely even breathed. Some insane part of me was terrified that the second I did, he’d disappear and I’d wake up alone in the kind of emptiness I’d gotten used to.
Pain throbbed through my leg, deep and brutal, pulsing up through the cast and into my knee. My skull still felt like someone had cracked it open and stitched it back together with rusted staples. It didn’t matter. I’d take it. I’d take all of it. Anything not to wake him. Anything not to lose this.
Slowly, carefully, I lifted my hand and brushed one finger along the line of his cheek. Warm. Real. A breath snagged in my throat so hard it almost hurt.
Jesus Christ.
Whatever this was, it had to stay locked down, buried, caged where it belonged. But fuck, I was so goddamn grateful for it.
I closed my eyes for a second, letting myself breathe him in—the warmth, the scent, the silence. And because apparently I was a masochist, I let myself imagine it. What it would’ve been like if things had been different. If it had always been us. If there had never been Trisha, never been the bullshit, never been my mother’s voice in my head or Graves’s hands in my life. If he had always belonged right here beside me.
A sharp pulse of pain ripped through my leg before I could stop the hiss that escaped me.
Aslan stirred.
My eyes snapped open just as his did. For one suspended second, neither of us moved. His amber eyes met mine, wide with sleep and shock, and the entire room seemed to stop breathing. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, staring at each other, but it felt like the whole fucking world narrowed to that one impossible moment.
Then Aslan shot upright.
“Oh, my God.”
His gaze darted around the room, the bed, the blankets, as if trying to understand how he’d ended up here.
“I—” His cheeks flushed instantly. “I brought food. Last night. I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay, and I sat down for a minute and…”
He stood too fast, visibly flustered, looking everywhere except at me.
“I don’t even know why I ended up on your bed,” he muttered, already fixing the blanket and adjusting the pillow beneath my leg. “I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”
Then he started moving fast. Too fast. Grabbing the water glass, refilling it from the bottle, checking the pill containers like if he kept his hands busy enough, he wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that he’d spent the night next to me.
Something in my chest twisted painfully.
No sass. No smart mouth. No walls. Just Aslan trying to make this easier. Trying to make me okay.
“Aslan.”
He kept moving.
“Okay, let me get you some water—”
“Aslan.”
“Or juice, I brought juice too, actually. That’s why I came, I brought dinner and—”
I reached out and wrapped my hand gently around his wrist.
“Lion.”
That stopped him.
He looked at me, and God help me, I smiled. Not the usual sharp, sarcastic thing I used like armor. Something softer. Something real.
“I know you were helping,” I said quietly. “That’s who you are.”
My thumb brushed lightly over his skin before I could stop myself.
“Thank you.”
The words barely covered what I meant.
Deep down, something uglier and more desperate stirred. I hoped he didn’t do this for just anyone. I hoped this meant something. I hoped I meant something, but right now, he needed reassurance more than I needed answers.
His movements finally slowed. A faint blush still colored his face as he glanced down, smiling despite himself.
“How are you feeling?”
A rough laugh slipped out of me.
“Like absolute shit.”
That got a laugh out of him too, small and warm and real, the kind that settled into the room and made it feel less empty.
“How can I help?” he asked.
For the next few minutes, he helped me with the morning pills, handing me water and checking the labels more carefully than I ever would have. When our fingers brushed as he passed me the tablets, a sharp current shot through me so fast it almost felt violent.
Then came a soft knock.
The door opened, and Olivia stepped in, her expression freezing for half a second.
“Aslan?”
He immediately stood.
“Hi,” he said quickly.
She recovered almost instantly, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Hi, Garr. How was your night?” Her eyes flicked to the medication bottles. “Oh, I see you already took your pills.”
Aslan took a small step back.
“Okay, I was leaving.” He glanced toward Olivia, then back at me. “Nice to see you again. I’m glad you’re here for him.”
Olivia smiled.
“Same,” she said, looking very pointedly between us. “It makes me feel much better knowing you’re here watching over him when I can’t.”
Aslan flushed again.
“Well… I’ll see you later. Feel better, Garrett.”
And then he was gone.