Emma

The sheets still carry the warmth of our bodies from last night. I crack my eyes open.Morning light filters softly through the half-open curtains. 

I can tell he’s already awake, his breathing is different now, and I can hear the soft tap of his laptop keys, which stops as soon as I stir.

I see him sitting up against the headboard, his laptop balanced on his thighs. His brow is furrowed so deeply that I almost reach out to smooth it with my thumb. 

The blue glow from the screen washes over his sharp features.

“Knox,” I murmur, my voice still thick with sleep.

His eyes snap to mine...