It's one of those crisp days where the sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at, the kind of day where the air smells like autumn—like leaves that have just started to fall and the promise of winter just around the corner. I stand at the edge of the grave, watching as they lower Mrs. Franklin's casket into the earth, my heart heavy with a grief that doesn't seem to fit inside my chest.

The cemetery is quiet, the only sounds the soft murmur of the wind through the trees and the faint rustle of coats as people shift from foot to foot. I can feel the ground beneath my boots, solid and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the way I feel inside. I've been standing here for what feels like forever, but time doesn't seem to mean anything right now. I'm lost in the sight of the casket descending, a slow, deliberate movement that feels like it's taking a piece of me with it.

I know it might be seen as strange to be this so attached to a patient, but Mrs. Franklin was more than that to me. She was almost like a grandmother.

Declan and Elias stand on either side of me, their presence grounding me in a way I can't fully describe. Declan's hand rests on the small of my back, a comforting weight that keeps me from completely falling apart. Elias is close enough that our shoulders brush, and I can feel the heat of him, a steady warmth that seeps into me, reminding me that I'm not alone.

They've been so good to me, these past few days. I don't know how I would've gotten through it without them. Since the night Mrs. Franklin passed, they haven't let me spend a single minute alone. Declan was there to pick me up from work when I was too distraught to drive, and Elias stayed with me, making sure I ate something, even when I didn't want to. They've been my rock, my safe place to land when everything else felt like it was crumbling around me.

I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. Mrs. Franklin was one of those patients you never forget. She'd been in and out of the hospital so many times, I'd lost count. But every time, she'd greet me with that same smile, always asking about my day, always cracking a joke, even when she was in pain. She had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room, even when it was clear that she was the one who needed the care.

I blink back tears, my gaze shifting from the casket to the faces of the people gathered around. There are so many of them—family, friends, people whose lives she touched in ways I can only imagine. And then, as my eyes scan the crowd, they land on Adrian.

I hadn't noticed him before, but there he is, standing a little way off, his expression unreadable. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away. He gives me a slight nod, an acknowledgment that feels both distant and intimate at the same time. I can see him glance between Declan and Elias, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he turns back to the ceremony.

I don't know what to make of that look, and I don't have the energy to figure it out right now. There's too much swirling around in my head, too much emotion that I can't seem to keep a lid on. So I force myself to turn back to the front, to listen as one of Mrs. Franklin's sons steps forward to give a eulogy.

His voice is strong, but there's a tremor in it, a grief that is heavier than mine. He talks about the kind of woman his mother was—kind, generous, with a spirit that refused to be broken, no matter what life threw at her. He talks about how much she loved her family, how she never missed a birthday, a holiday, a single moment to tell them how much they meant to her.

I can feel the tears building again, and this time I don't fight them. They spill over, hot and fast, sliding down my cheeks as I listen to the love in his words. I remember the way Mrs. Franklin used to talk about her family, how proud she was of her sons, her grandchildren. How she would light up when she told me about their latest accomplishments, like they were the most remarkable people in the world.

I glance up at the sky, blinking against the brightness of the sun. It seems wrong, somehow, for it to be such a beautiful day when there's so much sadness in the air. But maybe that's the way it's supposed to be—a reminder that life goes on, even when it feels like it shouldn't.

Declan's hand squeezes my back, just a little, and I lean into it, grateful for the silent support. I don't know what I'd do without him here, without Elias standing so solidly beside me. I can feel the weight of their presence, holding me up when I feel like I might collapse under the grief.

As the eulogy ends, the people around me begin to stir, shifting and moving as they prepare to leave. I stay where I am, rooted to the spot, watching as they start to fill in the grave. The sight of the earth being shoveled over the casket feels like a final blow, one that takes my breath away.

But then Declan's arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me close, and Elias's hand slips into mine, their combined strength giving me the courage to face it. I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and tell myself that it's okay to feel this way, that it's okay to mourn.

I look back at Adrian, wondering if he's still watching. But when I glance in his direction, he's already gone, lost in the crowd. For a moment, I wonder what he's thinking, what that look meant. But then I push it aside, focusing on the here and now, on the people who are here with me.

Mrs. Franklin is gone, but she won't be forgotten. Not by her family, not by me.

***

As soon as I step through the door of my apartment, Declan and Elias are already slipping off their shoes, making themselves at home like they've done a dozen times before. There's something comforting about it—how natural it feels to have them here, how seamlessly they've become a part of my life. But today, there's a heaviness in the air, a lingering weight from the funeral that we all seem to be carrying.

Elias stretches, cracking his neck like he's shaking off the day. He glances over at Declan. "You wanna get Valarie set up in her room while I order takeout real quick?"

Declan nods, turning his attention to me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah, I got it."

Before I can ask what he means, Declan swoops in, lifting me off my feet in one quick motion. I let out a playful scream, laughing as I wrap my arms around his neck. "Declan! You don't have to carry me everywhere, you know."

He grins down at me, that boyish smile that always makes my heart skip a beat. "I know. But I like to."

I roll my eyes but can't help the warmth that spreads through my chest. There's something about the way Declan takes care of me, the way he makes even the simplest things feel special, that gets to me every time.

He carries me to my bedroom andI let out a contented sigh as he gently sets me down on the bed. Declan turns to my dresser, opening the drawers and rifling through them with a focused expression.

"What are you doing?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbows, curious about what he's up to.

"I'm trying to find you something more comfortable to wear," he replies, his voice casual as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. "Check the bottom left drawer."

Declan follows my direction, opening the drawer and pulling out a black t-shirt. He turns around, holding it up with a raised eyebrow. "Is this...my shirt?"

I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "Correction: it was your shirt. Now it's mine."

He laughs, that deep, infectious sound that I love so much. "I guess I'll just have to get used to seeing it on you, then."

His goofy smile makes me feel lighter, like the weight of the day is slowly lifting. Declan walks over to me, the shirt in his hands, and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. It's soft, sweet, and it makes me melt into him, all the tension in my body easing away.

I take the shirt from him and stand up, turning my back to him as I slip out of my clothes. The cool air hits my skin, and I quickly pull the shirt over my head, the fabric soft and familiar. It smells like Declan—like the mix of soap and the faint scent of his cologne—and it's comforting in a way I can't quite put into words.

I turn back to the bed, crawling under the covers and getting comfortable. Declan watches me with a tenderness in his eyes that makes my heart ache in the best way possible. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear before pulling the blankets up to my chin, tucking me in like I'm something precious.

"Comfy?" he asks, his voice low and soothing.

I nod, feeling the warmth of the blankets and the security of his presence. "Yeah, I am."

He smiles, that same goofy, boyish smile that I've come to adore, and presses another kiss to my forehead. "Good."

I watch as he moves around the room, turning off the overhead light and leaving just the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He's so thoughtful, so attentive, and it fills me with a sense of gratitude that's hard to put into words.

As I settle back against the pillows, I can hear Elias in the living room, his voice low as he places the order for our dinner. The sound of him talking, the familiarity of it, calms me even more. It's like the three of us have formed this little bubble, a safe space where the outside world can't touch us.

Declan returns to the bed, sitting on the edge and reaching out to take my hand in his. His thumb brushes over my knuckles in a soothing rhythm, and I close my eyes, letting myself relax into the moment.

"You're always so good to me," I whisper, my voice barely audible, but I know he hears me.

He squeezes my hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring. "You deserve it, babe. You deserve to be taken care of."

I open my eyes to look at him, his face soft in the dim light. There's so much emotion in his gaze, so much that he doesn't say but that I can feel in every little gesture. It's overwhelming in the best way, and I find myself blinking back tears.

"Thank you," I say, my voice thick with emotion.

Declan leans in, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath warm on my skin. "Always."

We stay like that for a while, just holding onto each other, the quiet comfort of the moment wrapping around us like a blanket. There's something so intimate about it, something that goes beyond words and touches the very core of who we are.

Elias's voice drifts in from the living room, and I hear the sound of him moving around. The normalcy of it all, the way they've both slipped into this role of taking care of me, makes my heart swell with gratitude and something else—something deeper, something that scares me a little because of how strong it is.

Declan's fingers glide over the TV remote, flipping through the endless options of movies as I snuggle deeper into the comfort of my bed. I'm tucked under the covers, surrounded by pillows, the scent of clean sheets mingling with the faint hint of Declan's cologne. My mind is still lingering on the gentle touch of his hand on mine, the warmth of his presence beside me. Everything feels so calm, so peaceful, like I could stay in this moment forever.

But then, Elias saunters into the room, a familiar smirk on his lips as he looks between the two of us. He's got that easy confidence, the kind that makes you feel like everything's under control, even when it's not. He settles down on the other side of the bed, making himself at home in a way that feels both natural and new.

"Food's gonna take about an hour," he says, leaning back against the headboard. "Should've ordered before the dinner rush. My bad."

Declan makes a noise of acknowledgment as he continues scrolling through the movie options, but I'm already feeling the shift in the air. The bed dips slightly as Elias stretches out beside me, leaving me sandwiched between the two of them. This is the first time we've all been together like this since our big talk, and I'm hyper-aware of how close we all are, how the room feels a little smaller, a little warmer.

I can't help but think about how I'm going to need a bigger bed if this becomes a regular thing. There's definitely not enough room for all three of us to stretch out comfortably, but then again, I'm not exactly complaining. There's something thrilling about being in this close proximity, something that makes my heart beat a little faster.

We settle into the movie Declan finally selects, some action flick with a lot of explosions and dramatic music. It's not really my thing, but I don't mind. I'm too caught up in the sensation of being surrounded by them, of feeling their presence on either side of me. The room is dimly lit by the glow of the TV, casting soft shadows that flicker across their faces. I glance at Declan, his expression relaxed as he watches the screen, and then at Elias, who's got that lazy grin that always seems to be teasing something unspoken.

I'm starting to relax when I feel it—Elias's hand sliding under the blanket, his fingers brushing against my bare thigh. Heat rushes through me, a slow burn that spreads from where he's touching me to every inch of my body. I'm suddenly acutely aware of each point of contact, of how their legs are pressed against mine, how the blanket feels heavier with the weight of their hands on me. My breath hitches slightly, and I bite my lip, trying to keep my reaction in check.

I wonder, not for the first time, if they'd ever want to share me at the same time. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, one that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It's a tantalizing idea, one that makes my pulse race just thinking about it. But I push the thought aside, focusing instead on the way Elias's hand is moving, slow and deliberate, like he's testing the waters.

Declan shifts closer to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me against him. I'm caught between them now, my body responding to their proximity in a way that's impossible to ignore. I glance up at Declan, and then at Elias, noticing the way they're looking at each other. There's something in their eyes, something I can't quite decipher, but it's clear they're communicating without words.

Before I can even think to ask what they're silently saying to each other, Elias leans in and starts kissing my neck. His lips are warm, soft, and the sensation sends a rush of electricity through me. My eyes flutter closed, and I tilt my head slightly, giving him better access. It feels so good, so right, to be touched like this, to be the focus of their attention.

The kisses are slow at first, deliberate, each one sending a ripple of pleasure through me. But then they start to pick up, becoming more insistent, more demanding. I can feel my heartbeat quicken, the tension in my body building with every press of his lips against my skin. My hands grip the blanket, trying to ground myself, but it's useless. I'm completely lost in the sensation, in the way my body is responding to him.

And then I feel Declan's hand, warm and steady, skimming under the shirt I'm wearing. His fingers brush against my skin, and I can't suppress the gasp that escapes my lips. He moves slowly, his touch gentle but firm, exploring the curves of my body with a tenderness that makes my heart ache in the best way. He slides his hand up, finding the curve of my breast, and my breath catches in my throat as he cups it, his thumb brushing over my nipple.

A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, and I arch my back slightly, pressing myself into his hand. Declan's touch is confident, knowing, like he's perfectly in tune with what I need, with what my body is craving. I can feel the tension coiling tighter in my core, the heat building with every stroke of his thumb, every kiss that Elias plants on my neck.

But just as things start to spiral into something deeper, more intense, there's a knock at the door. The sound is jarring, pulling me out of the haze that had been clouding my mind. Elias groans, the sound low and frustrated, before pulling back.

"That's our takeout," he mutters, sounding less than pleased about the interruption. He stands, adjusting himself as he heads out of the room.