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Patricia nods as she finishes wrapping her wrists. “Now that I know your section, I need to insist on the birth control implant. Sex is an expectation at some point, not a suggestion.” She winces.

“I know. Yes, go ahead and do it, please,” Silla says. I hate that this is needed, but I don’t know what her instructors have planned.

“This is a special formula that starts working within minutes,” the nurse sighs. The last thing the camp needs is for all of the women in the camp to get pregnant, especially for Section B.

Babies aren’t conducive to doing their jobs, unfortunately.

“Understood,” Silla murmurs as Patricia preps the shot.

“How are you with needles?” I ask her, moving closer. It’s like she’s this gravitational force.

“They don’t really bother me,” she mutters. Still, Silla looks away as Patricia cleans the area on her arm with a sterile wipe, and then injects it into her.

Silla’s eyes close for a moment, but she doesn’t tense at all.

“All done,” the nurse says, throwing the used needle in the bin.

“Thank you. Anything else?” Silla asks.

“No, your wrists appear to be healing well. Come back in the morning and I’ll have more gauze and extra ointment for you, okay? I want you to be able to take care of it without having to trek over to me each time. Unless you want to,” Patricia chuckles.

“I think I’ll be fine.” She smiles.

I want to insist that the nurse check her hands, but the cuts from Silla’s nails are probably already closing up. I’m becoming a worrywort when it comes to this girl.

Standing, Silla thanks Patricia. Even though lights out means everyone needs to be in their rooms, the lights don’t actually go out. Leaving, I tug her away from the hallway that’ll take her to her room, leading her to mine instead.

“I want to talk, and I’ll make a note in your file that you’re excused from bed checks tonight. Are you okay with that?” I ask.

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know how many more truth bombs I have in me though,” Silla teases me.

Smirking, I unlock my door. The staff have keys to their rooms, and she stares at my lock in jealousy. Opening the door, my hand lands on her lower back to guide her in. I don’t want to advertise that she’s with me.

“Come sit, I have some questions that I need to ask,” I sigh, closing the door behind me. “Are you going to be okay in here with me?”

“The windows help,” she answers. I have a sitting space, and a bed in my room, and Silla gravitates to the couch.

Following, I sit next to her. “Grayson told me about how your meeting ended,” I tell her.

Shrugging, she slides her feet out of her shoes and underneath her. “He was a dick, and I lost control. Sometimes, I word vomit and say too much, so instead I focus on not talking at all,” Silla explains. “I didn’t exercise my right to say nothing at all, because Grayson was having way too much fun reminding me that I’m not innocent and clearly the whore the world believes me to be,” she snarks.

“He plans to make that up to you,” I promise. I don’t know why I’m defending him right now. I just don’t want her to hate him indefinitely.

Silla hums, shrugging. “I don’t believe that man apologizes easily, so I don’t really expect it. Especially not while I’m in here.”

This girl doesn’t understand the power she holds over Grayson. “You’re too far away. Come here,” I murmur, tapping on her leg.

Scooting over, she huffs at me. “How much closer would you like me to get?”

Scooping her into my arms, I sit her across my legs. “I have this irrational need to cuddle you,” I murmur. “I don’t want to feel like I’m caging you in—”

“I think I may like cuddling with you,” she says, surprising me.

My arms wrap around her, and she lays her head on my chest with a small sigh. “Still good?” I ask softly.

“Mm-hmm,” she says, burrowing deeper into my body. Chuckling, I tell my cock to settle down as it takes notice of the beautiful brunette in my arms. Her eyes aren’t focused on me, so I enjoy watching her. One of my hands moves to rub her leg, and I frown as I feel how cold she is.

Silla makes a small noise of complaint when I lean over to the arm of the couch, snagging the corner of a blanket. I tend to work on things late at night in my room, so I always have my favorite things nearby.