I awoke hungover, with Starlight licking my eyelids.
It sounds a bit weird, but it isn’t, it’s really quite nice; she normally tries to wake me by lightly nibbling at my big toe, but if that doesn’t work, if I’ve been totally hammered the night before, I get the rough edge of her tongue on my eyelids, accompanied by gentle purring.
I’d dragged the quilt right over me and it was mostly hanging off the end like a badly pitched tent. All I had was a half a triangle covering me.
I was naked.
And my feet were cold.
I’d forgotten to close the curtains and I could see the grim, grey morning reflected in the rain-smeared windows. I could still smell her scent, buried in the depths of the pillow she’d lain on; I could almost feel the silk of her skin, smooth and buttery like she’d just had an oiled and scented bath.
But she was gone.
And just how many times can you push someone away before they stop coming back?
I dragged the quilt back over me, the better to hide my shame.