Page 120 of Let Me In

The word hangs in the air between us.

He lowers his head.

His mouth finds my hair.

“You didn’t ruin a goddamn thing, baby,” he whispers. “You survived something no one ever should’ve had to.”

He pulls me closer.

I didn’t know I could be pulled closer.

But he does it.

And I fit.

“You were brave,” he murmurs. “You were smart. You did everything right. And you still think you have to apologize for being a person with a heart that hurts.”

My eyes sting again.

He doesn’t let go.

“You don’t owe me an apology, little one,” he says. “You never did. What you deserve is peace.”

And then—

Softer.

Wrecked.

“I want to give you that.”

His hands are warm on my back, one stroking slowly between my shoulders like he’s memorizing the shape of my pain.

The other stays low, solid at my waist, keeping me here. Grounded. Held.

His voice is barely above a breath now.

“There’s nothing more important than you.”

For a second, I can’t breathe past the ache. It’s not pain—it’s something softer. Like being seen and not having to hide from it.

It hits harder than I expect.

I don’t even mean to ask.

But it slips out, cracked and small and almost not there—

“Do you really want me here?”

I feel him freeze.

Just for a heartbeat.

Then—

He shifts.

One hand comes up to cup the side of my face.

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