With the sunlight preparing to sink beneath the horizon, Asher woke at that exact moment. His eyelids trembled weakly, heavy with lingering exhaustion. His body still begged for sleep, yet he had grown tired of lying helplessly in bed, staring at ceilings and drowning in thoughts.
Slowly, he pushed himself upright and slipped his feet into the fluffy slippers Xavier had bought for him not long ago. They were absurdly soft, the kind of thing Asher once mocked, yet now he wore them almost every day.
"Hmm… water. Where is that jug of water?"
His throat felt dry like sandpaper.
He looked around the room, then his gaze caught a shadow moving across the veranda outside his chamber.
In alarm, Asher nearly reached for the nearest object to use as a weapon, but then he paused after recognizing the figure from behind.
The damn person was shirtless.
