I woke up slowly, the soft weight of the blanket draped over me and the faint scent of eucalyptus and something uniquely Zaya lingering in the air. For a moment, I didn't move, blinking up at the ceiling as I pieced together where I was. Then it hit me.
Zaya's room. I had spent the night in Zaya's bed.
Rolling onto my side, I buried my face into the pillow, and sure enough, her scent was stronger here a clean, crisp mix of whatever soap she used and something warm and unexplainably her.
It was both comforting and a little overwhelming, like a reminder of just how much space she seemed to take up, even when she wasn't trying.
I sat up, running a hand through my messy hair. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the heating system.
