I must've fallen asleep without meaning to.
One moment, I'm watching cartoons with Mellow curled up between us—her body warm against my leg, her fur soft beneath my hand. The next, the world is quiet, and I'm waking up to a wet nose nudging my cheek.
"Hey," I mumble, groggy and blinking. Mellow licks me once, then again. Her tongue is warm and a little rough. "That tickles."
She lets out a pleased little grunt and nestles closer. I must've shifted in my sleep, because now I'm curled around her like she's some oversized pillow. My arms are loosely wrapped around her middle, her head tucked beneath my chin. It's embarrassing how natural it feels. Easy. Like I've done this before. Like it's normal for me to wake up like this—in a warm room, holding a dog, the ache in my chest gone quiet.
I missed this feeling. Back then when I fell asleep with Knox in my arms.
