ILIANA’S POV
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The soft glow of the morning sun shines through the windows, the curtains aren’t drawn. My narrowed eyes flick right up to the bed, and I prop myself onto my elbow, my hair tickling my neck as it falls down my shoulder. The empty bed is neatly made, untouched. Drystan didn’t sleep here. I can feel it. Tossing the light duvet off my body and over the back of the couch, I sit up, prying my aching body from the hard cushions and stand, my arms stretching up above my head, my neck tingling with a pleasurable ache as my muscles tense.
I could have slept in the bed if I knew he wouldn’t even be here.
I freshen up, and sit on the end of the bed with crossed legs as I brush my hair, my dark locks straight and leaving my t-shirt with wet marks here and there. The door opens, and
