Neither am I
CASPIAN I wake up holding her hand. This is the first thing I am aware of before anything else — before the ceiling, before the grey morning light coming through the window, before the residual weakness still sitting in my bones from last night. Her hand in mine. Small and warm and curled loosely around my fingers with the complete unconscious trust of someone who fell asleep without knowing she was doing it, or knowing and deciding not to care. I lie still. I am aware that she is asleep in the chair beside the bed, her head tipped back, her face completely unguarded in the way it only is when she doesn’t know she’s being looked at. I am aware that I should release her hand. I am aware that I have been awake for approximately thirty seconds and have not released her hand and show no im
- Writer
