I jolted awake to something touching my cheek, brushing my hair away. I swatted it off. It took me too long a moment to realize it was Ezra, and I was still sitting on the floor.
I opened my eyes, but they felt heavy—too heavy.
It took me another long minute to groggily pull myself to stand. I stretched against my sore muscles for something to do, stifling a yawn.
Sleeping while sitting up on the floor was a bad idea; I needed to stay limber. But I knew I would have gotten not an hour of sleep without Ezra’s warm, steady presence.
“Hi,” I grumbled, unable to open my eyes during my stretch.
“Hi,” he replied, a smile in his voice.
I f.orced my eyes open to see him still sitting motionless on the long windowsill. “You look well rested,” I noted; I couldn’t hide my disdain.
He was perf
