VALENTINE
My eyes fluttered open, the room slowly coming into focus. It was bright, and that meant that morning had come. I turned to my side, expecting to see Kerri still. The image from before was still green in my mind, and I was still contemplating whether or not to confront her about it. But instead of Kerri, there he was, Devin, slumbering across from me. I had not even realized it, but when I attempted to sit up, I noticed Devin’s hand had latched to my own.
His grip on my hand was firm and unwavering. I stole a moment to look at his face. It was softened by sleep, and it held an expression of vulnerability I rarely saw.
For a moment, I let myself absorb the sight of him—the way the darkness and curls of hair fell, the faint lines of worry etched on his face.
It was an intima
