I woke up slowly, blinking against the grey light filtering in from somewhere, and the first thing I felt wasn't pain. It was weight. An arm draped across my chest. A leg hooked over mine. And a head, tucked right up against my arm, breathing slow and even.
Jisoo.
Asleep. Her eyes looked swollen even closed, faint puffiness under the lashes that hadn't been there before.
(Did she cry,) I thought, looking at her face for a second longer than necessary. (While I was out. Probably.)
I didn't move yet. Just looked around without shifting, taking stock of where we'd actually are. We were boxed in by a strange little collection of things, an old fridge on its side, a table flipped and dragged close, a few huge wooden planks leaned against each other at angles that looked deliberate rather than collapsed.
