Connor
I woke up feeling like absolute shite.
Not hungover shite. Not sick shite. Just... off. Grogggy in that heavy, wrong way where your body feels like it belongs to someone else. My mouth was dry, my head was pounding right behind my eyes, and my shoulders were up around my ears.
I rolled over, reaching automatically for Edward.
The bed was empty. Cold.
I blinked at the ceiling. The throw blanket was half on the floor, half tangled around my legs. "Ed?" My voice came out rough, cracked.
No answer. Downstairs, I could hear a low murmur. That posh London voice of his.
I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and tried to breathe through the headache creeping in, that tight band around my skull. I felt tense. Shoulders tight, chest tight, that miserable, heavy feeling like my emotions were driving and I was just stuck in the passenger seat. I hadn't felt like that in a long time.
