Rory
Dray answered on the third ring, his voice sliding into an easy, unbothered register that gave nothing away, and I lay frozen beside him in the dark listening to one half of a conversation that could unravel everything in a single wrong word. The room was dark except for the phone's glow against his jaw, and I found myself holding my breath without meaning to, as if the sound of my own breathing might somehow carry three states through a phone line.
"Hey. Yeah, no, just up late working." He kept his eyes on the ceiling, jaw tight despite the casual tone, one hand finding mine under the sheet and gripping it tight enough that I understood the calm was costing him everything. "How's camp?"
I couldn't hear Jarvis's side, just the muffled warmth of his voice through the speaker, and so
