The first thing Circe felt when she woke was the presence of someone else on the bed with her, the warmth of their body enveloping her, impossible to ignore. It wrapped around her back, her waist, her ribs, as though the bed itself had grown arms in the night.
She opened her eyes to pale morning light slipping through the gap in the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. The heavy arm that was draped over felt more real with her now wide awake and less like a fragment of her imagination.
Circe knew it was him without turning to look. The sheets even smelled like him now.
She turned slowly in his hold to get a better look at him. The light caught on the sharp lines of his face, the slope of his shoulder, and the shadow of dark stubble along his jaw. He lay on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other now curved possessively around her.
