I blinked hard, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
Everything felt hazy — the kind of deep, heavy sleep where you forget the world exists for a while.
"I slept…?" I muttered, still half-dazed.
"Most of the day," Alexander answered.
His voice came from somewhere to my right.
Calm.
Even.
Too awake for how disoriented I felt.
I turned slowly.
He was standing there with a glass of water in hand, sleeves pushed up again, hair slightly ruffled like he'd run his fingers through it too many times.
He must've been sitting nearby the whole time.
"Water," he repeated, stepping closer. "You want some?"
I stared at the glass for a moment before meeting his eyes.
"Yeah… thanks."
He didn't hand it to me right away.
Instead, he crouched in front of the couch — eye level, steady — and placed the glass in my hands, guiding it just enough to make sure I actually held it properly.
"You were out cold," he said. "Didn't even move."
"That bad?" I asked, taking a sip.
