NIKLAUS
My head pounds like someone's slamming a hammer against my skull. A dull, relentless ache. My mouth is dry, throat burning, and my limbs feel too heavy to move. My eyes travel around and I instantly recognize this place as Lester's house and this is the room I usually crash in whenever I come to visit him.
And then, something's warm. Soft. Familiar.
I blink through the haze and turn my head.
Camille.
Her arm is draped over my chest, her face nestled into the space between my shoulder and jaw. She's holding me like I might disappear if she lets go—like she's still afraid I'll vanish the moment her eyes close.
My chest tightens.
Even asleep, she's beautiful. Her lips slightly parted, breath warm and even. Her lashes flutter faintly, like she's caught in a dream. My hand instinctively moves to brush a strand of hair away from her cheek, but I stop midway.
Because that's when the memories come.
Last night.
