Micah woke up with the worst headache of his life and a stabbing pain in his stomach that made him wince the moment he tried to breathe. His face scrunched, a soft grunt slipping out as he buried himself deeper into a pillow in protest.
Except… the pillow wasn't soft. It was solid. His brows furrowed. That wasn't right.
Micah rubbed his cheek against it, confused when, instead of the usual cottony bounce, there was a firm, warm surface. His hands lazily searched around for the missing pillow, fingers dragging across the strange texture until…
A low groan echoed beside him. Micah froze. For a few seconds, his brain went blank. Then, like an ancient machine sputtering back to life, the gears in his head started turning, slowly and rustily.
