A smooth Click from behind causes her to whirl around.

Alarmed.

Body poised to duck back into the bed.

But the man is standing there.

His broad shoulders curled around the doorframe.

He’s smiling.

Kindly. Fondly. Surprised.

Genuine.

And the sight—

so familiar,

so domestic,

so loving,

—suddenly

makes

her ribs collapse upon themselves, and she struggles

to breath

to think

to react

to get away from the man.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh my God,”

His teeth are so white, almost matches the plain colour of this room. His eyes are the deepest, wildest blue, while his hair is messy and spiky, rough and tamed at the same time.

Blue jeans and a black tee.

His voice matches the roughness of the white foam breaking against boulders.

His chin trembles, and he brings a hand up to his mouth, muffling a sob.

His face flushes a gossamer shade of red—and it’s the most beautiful colour she has seen so far.

“Oh my God, you’re finally awake.

Do you remember me?”