Eryx.
I woke up to red hair close to my mouth.
I lay still for a moment, orientating myself. The fever had broken. I could tell immediately — the grinding ache in my bones was gone and my skin felt like my own again. The room was bright with morning light coming through the window, later than I normally woke up.
Much later.
I looked down.
She was still there.
She had turned towards me at some point in the night, her face pressed into the curve of my neck, one hand curled loosely near her chin. Her hair was everywhere. Sprawled across my chest, across the pillow, one strand lying directly across her own nose.
She scrunched her nose and made a small sound. Blew at the strand from the corner of her mouth. It lifted and settled back in the exact same place.
She scrunched her nose again
