[Darrick]

The cafeteria was alive with sound—clinking trays, murmured conversations, and the occasional scrape of a chair against the tile floor. But none of that mattered to me. All I could focus on was the subtle weight in my pocket, the way Tess shifted now and then, her tiny movements sending my heart into overdrive.

The jumpsuit I wore felt ridiculous, too tight in some places and baggy in others, a constant reminder that I still wasn't back to normal. Not fully, anyway. I hunched over the table, trying to make myself smaller—not an easy feat when you're already larger than most—and kept my hand protectively over the pocket where Tess was hidden.

I shouldn't have brought her here. I know that. But the thought of leaving her alone in that sterile, cold human sector for another minute felt unbearable. After everything she'd been through—everything we'd been through—how could I leave her there, knowing I'd be eating breakfast just a few rooms away? No. I couldn't do it. So here I was, risking everything for a few extra minutes with her.

"Here," I murmured, lowering my hand into my pocket and angling it to shield her from view. Between my fingers, I pinched a small crumb of toast and gently placed it inside.

Her tiny hands brushed against my fingers as she took it, and I felt a flicker of relief at the sound of her voice, soft and barely audible over the chaos around me. "Thanks," she whispered.

I let my hand linger for a moment, just enough to reassure her. "Just stay still," I whispered back, my lips barely moving. "I'll get you back to your room soon, I promise."

My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anxiety and determination. Every glance from another participant, every movement from the staff stationed near the human sector entrance—it all made my stomach tighten. I couldn't let anyone see her. If they found out, it wouldn't just be me in trouble. They'd take it out on her, too. And that was something I couldn't live with.

~~~

[T E S S]

The fabric around me shifted slightly as Darrick moved, the faint pressure of his steps sending gentle jolts through my body. It wasn't uncomfortable—just a constant reminder of where I was. His pocket was warm, his scent lingering around me like a quiet embrace. It was a mix of cedar and soap, uniquely his, and it made me feel calm despite the chaos outside.

I pressed my hands against the inside of the jumpsuit pocket, steadying myself as I felt the rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. It was rhythmic, steady, and grounding—proof that he was there, holding it together, even as the cafeteria buzzed with noise and movement. The sound of trays clattering and muffled conversations filtered through the fabric, but all I could really focus on was him.

He was careful with every step, his movements deliberate and measured, as if he was hyper-aware of the tiny person he carried. I could feel the occasional shift in his posture, the slight adjustments to keep me secure without drawing attention. Every now and then, his fingers brushed the pocket's edge, a quiet reassurance that I was still there, safe and close.

When he sat down, the pocket dipped, and I slid a little closer to the bottom. The sudden shift made my heart leap, but it didn't last long—his hand was quick to steady me. Through the muffled noise of the cafeteria, I could hear the scrape of chairs and the clatter of utensils as the others joined him at the table. I pictured them all: Austin's usual scowl, Jace probably trying to fill the silence with lighthearted comments, and Cole sneaking glances at a girl. But even with those thoughts, my mind kept circling back to Darrick.

I could see his expression so clearly in my mind. His jaw would be tight, his hazel eyes scanning the room, always watching, always calculating. He probably had his shoulders hunched slightly, trying to make himself look smaller despite his size. Darrick never liked drawing attention to himself. It was one of the things I loved about him—he could be so gentle, so unassuming, even when his presence filled every space he entered.

The pocket shifted again as his hand slipped inside, and I tensed out of instinct before his fingers curled around me gently. He lowered a crumb of toast, his movements so careful it almost felt surreal. I took it from him, our fingers brushing for the briefest moment.

"Thanks," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the background noise.

His reply was soft, almost a murmur. "Just stay still, okay? I've got you."

There was something in his voice—steady and low, but filled with so much quiet determination—that made my chest tighten. I clutched the crumb of toast, but my focus wasn't on the food. It was on him. On the way he carried me, not just in his pocket but in every careful step and every watchful glance.

The pocket fabric pressed gently against my back as I leaned into it, closing my eyes for just a moment. I felt the subtle shift of his chest as he breathed, the warmth radiating from his body. Even in the midst of all this uncertainty, I felt safe here. He was my anchor, my protector, my everything.

His fingers brushed the outside of the pocket again, a quick and quiet check to make sure I was still okay. That small gesture made me smile, even though he couldn't see it. He didn't need to say it—I already knew. No matter what happened, Darrick would do whatever it took to keep me safe.

And in this moment, tucked away in the warmth of his presence, I knew I trusted him more than anything.

~~~