Everything in my brain is thick and slow and wrong. But her voice cuts through it.
“Romeo. I need you to wake up for me.”
I force my eyes open. She’s leaning over me, backlit by the lamp she must have turned on. Looks like an angel. My angel.
“JuJu?”
“Yeah. How do you feel?”
“Head hurts.” Understatement of the century. Feels like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to my skull.
“I know. I need to ask you some questions, okay? Can you tell me what day it is?”
I have to think about it, harder than it should be. “Thursday. No, Friday. After midnight.”
“Good. What’s my name?”
“Juliette Chastain.” The words come easier than the day. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Could look at you forever and never get tired of it.”
She smiles just a little. “You’re still concussed.”
“Doesn’t make it less true.” I reach up and touch her face with my hand shaky but determined. “Everything about you is beautiful. Your eyes, they’re like ice when the sun hits them. Did I tell you that? Meant to tell you that. Ice blue.”
“Ice is clear. White maybe.”
“Like Elsa, my Ice Queen.”
“Go back to sleep, Romeo.”
“Can’t sleep when you’re right here looking like that.” I trace my thumb across her cheekbone, the skin soft and warm. “I love your face. Could look at it for hours.”
“Okay, Romeo.” She catches my hand gently. “That’s enough. Go back to sleep.”
“Only if you stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She settles back down next to me. I pull her closer, needing the contact, the proof that she’s really here.
“Love you,” I mumble into her hair.
She goes still. “You’re concussed.”
“Love you anyway.”
I drift off before she can respond.
Two AM.
This time I’m already half-awake when she touches my shoulder.The pain in my head has dulled from sharp agony to a persistent throb.
“Hey. Time to check in.”
I blink up at her. She looks tired, worried, beautiful.
“You’re still here.”
“Still here.” She brushes my hair back from my forehead with a tender gesture. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
