Anna blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through the window, her body still aching but her mind a little clearer. She turned her head slightly, wincing at the familiar sting of pain, and caught sight of a surprising scene—Alexander was sleeping on the floor beside her bed.
His head rested on the edge of the mattress, and his hand was draped over hers, holding it gently even in his sleep. His black hair was slightly tousled, and the faint sunlight brought out the sharp contours of his face.
Anna found herself studying him, momentarily distracted from her discomfort. His pink, slightly parted lips looked soft, and there was an air of vulnerability about him in this unguarded state. She smiled at her own silly thoughts, brushing them away.
But then a question tugged at her mind. Doesn't he need to go to work?
"Alexander," she said softly, her voice still hoarse.
He stirred slightly but didn't wake.
