Villain Ch 1922. I Look Like I Got Run Over by a Heated Blanket
"Allen, Allen, wake up," Larissa's voice floated into his dream like smoke curling into a crack. Gentle. But amused. A little too amused.
His eyes cracked open.
Dusk.
Faint blue shadows stretched long across the villa's glass walls, tinting everything with that late-evening melancholy glow. The TV was dark. The remote was across the table. Outside, the pine trees swayed lightly in the chill breeze, mountain mist rolling in like silk over the horizon. The screen? Completely different from the last thing he remembered. He didn't even know what movie had played.
The warmth on his body?
Yeah.
A blanket.
Someone—probably Larissa—had tossed it over him.
"…I fell asleep?" Allen mumbled, voice raw, low. He sat up slowly, blinking the fuzz from his head.
