Mai_Heartlines
The morning light slipped through the curtains like a quiet whisper.
She stirred, her fingers brushing against the cold side of the bed.
Somewhere outside, a boy waited the same boy who waited every morning.
He knew what would happen the moment her eyes opened.
She would look around, confused but calm, and ask the same question she always did:
"Who are you?"
And just like that, the world he built with her the day before would fade into nothing.
He smiled anyway.
Because love, to him, meant remembering even when she couldn't.