#Chapter318
I wake up in bed to the gentle strumming of what sounds like Arry’s guitar and blink in the darkness of the apartment bedroom. I crawled in here when I got back and willed myself to try and sleep in his absence and must have finally passed out.
I sit up and listen hard to what might have been a dream, but I hear it again, soft, distant like he’s playing his guitar but not near the couch where he would normally sit. I blink awake with the realization he may be home and pull myself upright to rub my face.
Without hesitation I get up and almost fall over the end of the bed in the unfamiliar space, head still used to our Paris bedroom in pitch blackness and curse myself out for being so ungraceful. I’m wearing one of his t-shirts, I needed the comfort when I got here and slide out expecting to see him on the couch but he’s not there.
