OPHELIA'S POV
As I rouse from a heavy slumber I am first aware of the coolness of the air and it's loamy fragrance. I burrowed myself into the warm, soft sheets. I looked at my right and saw the bed was empty.
Xavier.
Where was he?
With that question in my mind, I rubbed the remainders of sleep from my eyes and gazed out at the horizon; its vivid light extended across a rosy sky. I supposed this was something the majority of people would consider beautiful, but I found it strange, hard even, to find something so meaningful in something so every-day. It's not like the sun wouldn't rise, it had, after all, been reliably happening since the beginning of time. So what was so special about it? I could never feel the joy from it others did, the magic that drew so many artists and photographers in, as if they had some lens or filter I had missed out on.
But then I remembered.
