[Adelaide Knowles]
I wake with a throbbing headache, taking a full minute to scan my surroundings which is oddly very familiar. The lights are warm and soft, spilling over a room wider than any bedroom I remember sleeping in. A large study table sits to one side, backed by a compact library, not quite as large as the one in Christian’s study.
The sheets covering me are smooth, soft and scented of cologne.. Black and cream hues wash over the space; a piano and a vinyl player sit neatly in a corner, not too far from the exit.
Where am I?
I hear a soft snore by my bedside which startles me when I see Christian Castillo bent over, his index finger latched onto my pinky ones as he snores softly. I attempt to take my hands off him immediately save for the fact that his fingers curl mine,
