C135 Pulled Back.

I ran into her arms, breath hitching as I crushed myself against her. I buried my head in her lap. Her scent—warm. Familiar. Home.

She yanked my hair. Pain flared, but I didn’t pull away. I let her. I deserved it. I buried my head in her lap, a boy again, clinging to comfort long lost.

“Andrew.” Her voice wavered. “A son after my own heart.” Her grip loosened. Trembling