A R I A N A

I stared in my sleep as my eyes sprint open my vision unclear, my body aching in places I didn’t know could ache, the sheets were tangled around my legs, the pillow smelled like him that mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely Dante.

This wasn’t my room.

This was his room.

The bed was empty beside me, but the shower was running in the bathroom, steam curling out from under the door.

I sat up too fast, wincing as my muscles protested, ...