I woke up slowly. My consciousness returning in rough waves that was accompanied with a pleasant warmth pressed against my chest and the faint scent of Sienna's shampoo filling my nostrils. My arms were wrapped around her sleeping form, and she had one hand fisted in my shirt like she didn't want me to leave her.
The light filtering through the curtains suggested it was late afternoon. I'd probably been asleep for an hour or two at most. Not nearly enough to feel fully rested, but the emotional exhaustion of our conversation had apparently caught up with me faster than I'd realized. My body felt heavy with the kind of bone-deep tiredness that comes after major emotional confrontations, the kind that no amount of physical rest can fully address.
