Ready
The faint rocking of the yacht pulled me from sleep, like a lullaby working in reverse. My eyes fluttered open to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the half-open blinds, casting golden lines across the rumpled white sheets.
And there he was.
Ellison.
Lying beside me, bare-chested, the sheet resting low on his hips. His face was turned toward me, lips slightly parted in sleep, his lashes casting faint shadows over his cheeks. His arm was still draped across my waist, holding me in place as if even in dreams, he refused to let me drift away.
I let myself just... look. My heart was oddly calm, but my chest felt full—like one deep breath could make it overflow. Last night happened. Totoo 'yon. Wala nang makakabura.
I moved slightly, trying not to wake him, but the moment
