ARIA'S POV — 5:23 AM
Consciousness arrived the way dawn did....gradually, then all at once.
First there was warmth. Specifically the warmth of a hand around hers, large and familiar, the particular texture and weight of it imprinted on her body's memory in a way that registered before she was fully awake.
Then sound....the steady rhythm of monitors, distant hospital noise, and underneath it, very close, a voice. Low and quiet and slightly rough around the edges in the way Damien's voice got when he was tired or emotional and his careful control over his own presentation slipped.
"....going to be so angry with me for not sleeping. You'll make that face. The one you think I don't notice but I always notice...."
She tried to open her eyes and found them extraordinarily heavy. Tried again.
