John's POV

Sunlight streamed through the living room window, painted in golden lines by the slats of the blinds. It had been a very long time since he had slept on someone's couch. As a matter of fact, he couldn't remember when it had been. It was unbecoming of someone like himself.

Or maybe not. Maybe it was nice.

Rhiannon was puttering around her room, humming some song he vaguely recognized from the radio. John struggled to wait for her to come out, but he couldn't ...