42. Mine
Mara
Morning arrived quietly.
Soft rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains, bathing the living room in a warm golden glow. If someone had walked into the house without looking at the couch, they would've thought that everything was peaceful. But one look at Zander was enough to remind me that peace had come at a price.
He slept on his side, one arm tucked carefully against his ribs. Fresh bandages peeked from beneath the collar of his black T-shirt, and faint purple bruises still painted his jaw and cheek. His breathing was steady and that was all I cared about.
I gently wrung out the small towel in the bowl of cool water before placing it across his forehead.
He stirred. His eyebrows knitted together then they relaxed again.
I smiled. "Stay asleep. You've earned it."
