NICOLE
The first thing I'm aware of is warmth. A solid, heavy weight around my waist.
Consciousness seeps in slowly, and with it, confusion. The room is bright, sunlight streaming through the windows. Kenji is still here. He's still holding me.
This is… wrong. He's never in bed this late. He's always gone before I even open my eyes, a ghost who leaves only a cold space beside me.
I need to get up. The routine of getting ready for work, of putting on my armor of trousers and blouses, feels like the only solid ground I have left. I try to gently shift his arm, to slide out from under his hold.
His grip tightens instantly. It's not a suggestion; it's a lock. I'm pinned.
I try again, a little more forcefully, pushing against his forearm. It's like trying to move a steel beam. He doesn't budge.
Annoyance flickers through me. Is he even awake, or is this just some subconscious, possessive reflex?
Frustrated, I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder.
