~Mel~
The sunlight seeped in like it had something urgent to tell me, but my body refused to move fast enough to heed it. My head throbbed faintly, a dull drumbeat of last night’s chaos and heartache. I blinked at the ceiling, still tasting the warmth of him, the press of his hand, the whisper of his voice.
I should’ve gotten up, started the day, coffee, writing, life, but every muscle in me wanted to stay tangled in the sheets, pretending that maybe if I lingered long enough, the ache in my chest would settle.
It didn’t.
Every small noise made me jump: the hum of the fridge, a distant car, even my own breathing. Last night had left an imprint. Not just in the memory of his presence, but in the spaces between my ribs, in the way my pulse skittered whenever I imagined him leaning just a
