Abby
Waking up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, I feel an unfamiliar warmth surrounding me.
It takes a moment for the fog of sleep to clear from my mind, and then I remember him—Karl. He’s still here, beside me. We went to sleep last night with a respectable distance between us, but it’s clear that it made no difference; because now, his arm is draped protectively over my waist.
It’s both strange and comforting at the same time, a feeling that I can’t decide right now if I want to welcome or not. Right now, I think I want to welcome it. His scent is almost overpowering, and maybe it’s just that that’s making me soften, but in my current sleepy state, I don’t care/
I carefully turn to face him, not wanting to wake him up.
His features are relaxed in sleep, a
