Shadows of soft, golden light danced through the translucent curtains that fell loosely over my window, tracing fine patterns on the wooden floor. The morning air crept in quietly, bearing the soft smell of pine and fresh soil. I moved under the blankets, my eyelids slowly fluttering open as the light of the new day roused me from sleep. For an instant, everything was far away, dreamlike, as if I was suspended between sleep and waking.
Then the memories crept back—in a gentle tide at first, then crashing over me like a wave. My heart skipped in my chest as visions from the previous night leapt across my mind. It wasn't a dream. No, it had seemed much too real—much too vivid. The heat of his hands, the pressure of his eyes, the power of his arms. And the joy. I could still sense it prickli
