When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was that the light slanting in through the curtains had changed. No longer the bright warmth of midday, but the softer, golden-orange glow of evening. My body felt heavy, warm, and wrapped in sheets that smelled distinctly of Claude—his mix of citrus and something darker, something uniquely him.
I blinked slowly, taking in my surroundings. This wasn't the couch. I remembered sinking against Claude's chest earlier, letting exhaustion take me after everything that had happened between us. I remembered his warmth, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my ear. But this—this was the main bedroom.
I sat up with a groggy stretch, my hair spilling across my shoulders. "What…?" My voice was raspy, and I coughed lightly. "How did I get here?"
The last clear memory was of dozing on the living room couch, promising myself I'd only nap for a little while. Then… nothing. Just warmth. Which could only mean one thing.
Claude.
