I woke up hard.
Not metaphorically.
Not emotionally.
Physically.
Immediately.
With the kind of ruthless biological enthusiasm that made my brain reboot in sheer panic before anything else could kick in.
For exactly half a second, I lay there staring at the ceiling, utterly still, wondering if this was some kind of divine punishment for happiness.
Then reality hit.
Oh no. Morning wood...
I turned my head slowly.
Carefully.
Like I was disarming a bomb.
Belle was still there.
Asleep.
Peaceful.
Completely unaware of the internal chaos detonating beside her.
I exhaled so hard my soul briefly left my body.
Thank every god, dead or otherwise.
She lay on her side facing me, long black hair spread across the pillow like spilled ink, her blindfold gone, her face fully visible in the morning light filtering through the curtains.
Her violet eyes were closed now, lashes resting softly against her cheeks, but even like this—especially like this—I could see it.
Proof.
