Awake.
Brief moment of confusion, disorientation. My bed. My room. Pale grey light. Morning, just barely. Warmth against hip, chest, neck. Warmth smelling of faint sweat, glycerin (Pears soap, two days out of the packet). John. Warmth shifts. Callused hands shift higher on my hip. Sleep-sour mumble against my chin, almost a kiss. Two slurred syllables. My name. Heart swells. Smile, involuntary, gentle swipe of bandaged thumb against his bruised cheek. Trace the slope of his nose, his swollen bottom lip (marked with the press of my teeth, pride, vague guilt). Furrow in his brow. Shift. Hand on my hip tightens. Beginnings of a smile under my finger. Eyes open, blink, once, twice, creases at the corners. Pale lashes tickle my ring finger.
"Hullo there." Rough and warm and languid. Slight growl, in his throat, stubbled skin rasping against my fingers (razor, manual, blade to be replaced).
"Rain."
Eyes crease further. "Hm?"
"It's raining."
Smile broadens under gauze of index finger. "Good morning to you, too."