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Blake stirred, feeling the warm sunlight streaming through the gaps in the dusty blue curtains. She blinked her eyes open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of Ethan's bedroom. The room was bathed in a soft morning glow, highlighting the dressed in the corner, the top overflowing with well-loved books and a guitar propped casually against the wall. For a moment, she lay still, savoring the warmth of the sun on her skin and the rare sense of contentment.
Beside her, Ethan lay sprawled on his stomach, the sheets tangled around his waist. His face was pointed at her, serene in sleep, a slight smile playing on his lips framed by a faint stubble. She couldn't help but smile too, remembering the night before.
But the clock on the nightstand caught her eye, and her smile faltered. It was already past six. She had work in an hour, and her friends were probably worried sick, not having heard from her since she'd met Ethan for dinner the previous night at that cute little Italian place she'd been wanting to try forever.
Blake gently slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Ethan. The wooden floorboards creaked softly beneath her bare feet as she padded across the room. She found her clothes scattered around the floor, remnants of the night before. Quickly pulling on her jeans, the familiar feel of the soft denim a grounding presence, she noticed a stray purple earring dangling precariously from the pocket. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips—it was the one Izzie warned her about when she borrowed them, the one that never seemed to stay on.
As she fastened the button on her jeans, she heard Ethan stir beside her. He mumbled something incoherent, his voice thick with sleep.
"Morning," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him as she pulled her shirt over her head. His sleep-tousled hair looked even more endearing in the morning light.
