I woke up feeling… off.
It wasn't just the dull ache behind my eyes or the dryness in my throat. It wasn't even the heaviness in my limbs that made it harder to move than usual. It was something else—something I couldn't quite name, lingering just beneath the surface like a thought I couldn't fully reach.
I shifted slightly, blinking against the soft light filtering through the curtains. For a second, the room felt unfamiliar, like I had forgotten where I was, but then everything slowly came back into focus. Paris. The hotel. Harley.
My gaze moved instinctively, landing on him.
He was sitting near the window, his back partially turned toward me, the early morning light outlining his figure in a way that made everything feel quieter than it should have been. There was something about the stillness of it that made the room feel different—too calm, too controlled, like something had settled overnight without me noticing.
"Harley…" My voice came out softer than I expected.
He turned immediately, like he had been waiting for me to wake up. "Yeah?"
I pushed myself up slowly, wincing slightly as I pressed a hand to my temple. "I don't feel good."
"That's not surprising," he said.
I let out a small breath, rubbing my forehead as I tried to shake off the lingering heaviness. "Did I drink that much?"
"Yes."
I frowned slightly. "I don't remember ordering that many drinks."
"You didn't really keep track."
"That sounds like something I would do," I muttered, letting out a weak laugh, though it didn't quite feel right.
My eyes drifted around the room again, lingering just a little longer than necessary, like I was searching for something I couldn't quite identify. Everything looked the same—the furniture, the light, the quiet—but there was something about it that didn't settle the way it should have. Not obvious. Not something I could point to and explain. Just… different.
"Did we get back late?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"What time?"
"Late enough."
I glanced at him, frowning slightly. "That's not an answer."
He didn't respond right away. Then, after a brief pause, he said, "After midnight."
That wasn't unusual. But the way he said it made it feel like it mattered.
I shifted again, pulling the covers slightly closer around myself as a quiet unease settled in my chest. It wasn't sharp or overwhelming—just there, persistent, like something waiting to be noticed.
Why does it feel like I'm forgetting something?
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think. The bar. The drinks. The walk back. After that… nothing. Just fragments. Blurred pieces that didn't quite connect, like trying to remember a dream that slipped away the moment you woke up.
I opened my eyes again and looked at him. "Did anything happen last night?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it. It sounded simple, almost casual, but something in the air shifted the moment I said it.
Harley didn't answer immediately, and that alone made my chest tighten.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
I shrugged lightly, even though the unease didn't fade. "I don't know. I just feel like I'm missing something."
"That's normal," he said. "You drank more than usual."
I studied him for a second, searching for something in his expression, but there was nothing to read. Calm. Controlled. Just like yesterday.
I nodded slowly. "Yeah… I guess."
But it didn't feel like that was the whole answer.
I pushed the thought aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, standing carefully. The room tilted slightly, and I steadied myself against the nightstand.
"Careful," he said.
"I'm fine," I replied quickly, even though I wasn't entirely sure that was true.
I made my way toward the bathroom, slowing slightly as I passed him. For a brief moment, I almost stopped. Almost said something. Almost asked again. But the words didn't come. Something about the way he stood there, unmoving, made it feel like whatever answer I was looking for… I wasn't going to get it.
Inside the bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My hair was slightly messy, my expression still clouded with sleep and something else I couldn't quite name. There was a faint tension in my face that hadn't been there before.
I lifted a hand, brushing my hair back before letting it fall again. Then, without thinking, my fingers brushed lightly over my lips. The gesture felt automatic, unconscious, like my body was remembering something my mind couldn't.
I frowned at my reflection.
Why does it feel like something changed?
The thought lingered for a second before I shook my head, turning on the faucet.
You're overthinking.
That's all it is.
When I stepped back out, Harley was still by the window in the exact same spot, like he hadn't moved at all.
"You're really quiet this morning," I said as I walked over.
"I could say the same about you."
"I don't feel like talking," I admitted.
"That makes two of us."
I let out a quiet breath, leaning slightly against the arm of the couch, watching him from the corner of my eye. "That bad, huh?"
"You did drink a lot."
I rolled my eyes faintly. "You've mentioned that already."
A brief silence settled between us. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. It just sat there, heavy in a way that made it hard to ignore.
"Sophie."
I looked at him. "Yeah?"
He hesitated, just for a second, but it was enough for me to notice.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
I frowned slightly. "You were about to say something."
He shook his head. "It's not important."
Something about that didn't sit right with me. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
The answer came too quickly, too easily.
I studied him for a moment longer, searching for something, but his expression didn't change. Whatever it was… he wasn't going to tell me.
The silence that followed felt familiar, but different. Heavier. Like something was sitting between us now—something I couldn't see, something I couldn't remember.
I wrapped my arms loosely around myself, glancing toward the window. Paris looked the same—beautiful, calm, unchanged. People moved below like nothing had shifted, like the world hadn't quietly tilted in a way only I could feel.
But something wasn't right.
And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever it was…
It mattered more than I realized.