>Mallory
My alarm chimed at 6:15 a.m., far earlier than any sane person should be awake, and yet somehow still too late for everything I needed to get done.
I stirred under the blanket, the dull ache in my head blooming into a throbbing pulse as I rolled onto my back and turned off my phone alarm with my right hand. My throat felt tight, my body heavy, like I'd slept under a wet tarp instead of a comforter.
Wonderful.
Another morning of feeling like I hadn't slept at all. I'd been feeling like this for the past few days.
For a few seconds, I let myself lie still. If I didn't move, maybe the day wouldn't start. Maybe my responsibilities could slip quietly out the door like fog. But then I heard the soft patter of light footsteps down the marbled floor and the faint rustle of a blanket dragging behind him.
I pulled myself upright.
"Morning, sweetheart," I tried to say. My voice cracked, barely a whisper. I swallowed against the sandpaper in my throat.
"Come here."
