I wake up to the feeling of being watched.
Not the paranoid kind.
The specific, irritating kind where you know exactly who's doing it.
I open my eyes slowly, half-expecting to find an empty room because surely I'm imagining—
Bael is standing beside the bed, fully dressed for work, looking down at me with that unreadable expression.
I almost jump.
"Jesus..!"
"Good morning," he says, completely unbothered by the fact that he's apparently been standing there staring at me like some kind of well-dressed stalker.
I sit up, heart still racing. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough." He picks up his briefcase from the chair. "You have four weeks left. You should start getting up earlier."
I blink at him, brain still half-asleep.
"You woke me up to lecture me about time management?"
"I woke you up because you slept through your alarms." He adjusts his watch with that casual precision that somehow makes everything he does look deliberate. "Your deadline is tight."
