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His face looks different asleep.

Softer maybe. Still dangerous obviously.

That doesn’t exactly disappear just because somebody’s unconscious.

Unfortunately, seeing him like this still does deeply offensive things to my nervous system anyway.

I stare at him for another second before deciding I desperately need water before my organs dry out completely.

Very carefully, I start lifting his arm off me inch by inch.

Dagger makes a low sound in his sleep but doesn’t wake up.

Good.

I slide out from beneath the blankets slowly, pausing when dizziness sways the room sideways for a second before finally managing to stand.

Okay.

Still alive.

Debatable quality of life currently, but alive.

Cold concrete presses beneath my bare feet as I make my way toward the kitchen, one hand dragging through my tangled hair while sunlight spills gold across the apartment around me.

The place feels different in daylight.

Less intimidating.

Still aggressively Dagger though.

I find a glass beside the sink and fill it from the tap before immediately chugging half of it like a dehydrated raccoon.

Sweet Jesus.

Actual resurrection.

I’m halfway through pouring another glass when a rough voice behind me nearly sends the cup flying out of my hand.

“The fuck are you doing?”

I whip around too fast and instantly regret it when my skull throbs violently.

Dagger stands a few feet awat, shirtless, dark hair messy from sleep while tattoos disappear beneath low black boxer briefs hanging off his hips.

Unfortunately?

Still hot enough to qualify as a public safety issue.

“Calm down, I was getting water,” I mutter.

His eyes narrow immediately anyway, gaze flicking toward the apartment door before coming back to me.

Suspicious asshole.

“Do you not remember blacking out last night?” he asks flatly. “You should still be in bed.”

“And you should stop stripping unconscious women,” I shoot back instantly. “Very rude behavior honestly.”