A Charmed Reincarnation (Season 2)

１４ • Ｓｈａｄｏｗｓ ｏｆ Ｗｈａｔ Ｗａｓ

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*🅔🅝🅙🅞🅨 🅡🅔🅐🅓🅘🅝🅖 🅜🅨 🅦🅘🅣🅒🅗🅔🅢 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

I blinked my eyes open, and for a moment, the sunlight streaming through the blinds felt foreign. My body stirred under the warmth of the blanket, and I stretched, trying to shake off the lingering tendrils of sleep. My hand automatically reached over to seek out the warmth of another body I was so sure should be there, but my hand patted empty space. I frowned as I sat up and stared disappointed when I saw there was no one there, but then the smell of bacon wafted into the room, and I could hear pots and pans clanking and feet shuffling around in the kitchen. The small ball of anxiety in my chest dissipated, and I laid back down and pulled his pillow close to my chest. I leaned in close and breathed in the smell of his cologne, mixed with the faint scent of something tangy, like citrus, that always clung to his shirts. It was comforting, a physical reminder that the chaos of my dreams hadn't followed me into wakefulness, and I didn't have to console myself all alone.

The incessant hum of traffic outside my window signaled the beginning of another bustling day in the city. Rubbing my bleary eyes, I scanned the room that I had called home for years. The walls seemed brighter now, almost as if they were mocking me with their cheerfulness. A quick glance at the clock reminded me of my daily routine, and I begrudgingly got out of bed. But something was off. My clothes, usually scattered across the floor in a frenzied mess, were neatly folded on a chair by the window. I took a glance at the closet door and saw that my work outfit had already been picked out and ironed, waiting for me.

I smiled. "That was nice of him," I murmured to myself. I went about my morning routine, feeling strangely detached, as if watching myself from afar. The bathroom mirror reflected an image that was undoubtedly me, yet my hazel eyes held a depth I couldn't quite fathom. I touched my cheeks and felt a softness to them. I recently cut my hair into a fade, and it was a bit unusual too see myself without curls, but I can't deny it makes getting ready in the morning easier without having to do that maintenance.

When I stepped into the kitchen, the smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled my senses. I found Ethan standing by the stove, humming softly as he flipped pancakes. He greeted me with a warm smile before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Good morning, babe," he said, his voice laced with affection. "You slept in today. It must have been a rough night."

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," I replied, trying to remember the events of yesterday, but my head felt foggy. Probably still sleepy. Ethan continued cooking, seemingly unfazed by my lack of response. There was something comforting about the domestic scene playing out before me: the way Ethan's fingers expertly cracked eggs into a bowl, or how he would glance over at me every now and then, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Breakfast is almost ready," Ethan announced, turning off the stove and placing the last pancake onto a plate. "Grab a seat, and I'll bring everything over."

"Thanks," I said, settling down at the small kitchen table. As Ethan joined me, our fingers brushed against each other's, sending a warm current through my body. Despite the lingering confusion, part of me wanted to simply enjoy this moment with him, to bask in the simplicity and love that enveloped us.

"Everything okay?" Ethan asked, concern flickering across his face as he studied my expression.

"Yeah," I stammered, forcing a smile. "Just...still waking up, I guess." But deep down, questions continued to swirl within me, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness, demanding answers. What was happening? And more importantly, what did it mean for me, for us, and for the life we were building together?