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25. Bloody Hell

His eyes fluttered open and he yawned as they darted around. The other side of the bed was empty, she. Was already awake.

He stretched before sighing. It was the best he’d slept in a long while, in months. He peeked into the closet and some of his clothes were still in there and were neatly arranged.

He grabbed a pair of balcony shorts and a t-shirt before trudging to the bathroom for a quick routine. He brushed his teeth after and got dressed before finger curling his wet hair, shaking it around in the air for volume. His shirt was fitted but not as tight as he remembered. He needed to start hitting the gym again.

After a quick glance in the mirror, he walked out of the room and descended from the flight of stairs. She laid on the couch, eyes closed, an arm across her head, shielding her eyes from any form of light. He looked up at the clock.

11:45am.

No wonder he felt rested. He hadn’t woken up at this time in a while.

“Hey.” He stifled a yawn as he approached her, sprawled out
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