MELISSA
My eyelids flutter open, and the afternoon light bathes my room in peach, casting everything in a soft glow similar to the way the moonlight danced on Xander’s muscles last night.
Fuck, Xander. I can still feel his heated gaze, the light caress of his calloused fingers.
I can’t keep the smile off my face as I look over to his side of the bed. He’s gone, but that was to be expected. What is unexpected is the vivid splash of red invading his space. A single rose, its petals unfurled like it’s taking a breath.
I move away from the rose, and the air in the room slowly gets sucked out as I cover my mouth, gasping for air the same way I did that night. I couldn’t move then. I couldn’t look away then. I still can’t do it now. The color red still feels like being gutted to me, a stark
