I woke up slowly, the soft light of dawn filtering through my curtains. My muscles ached pleasantly as I stretched, arching my back and letting my fingertips graze the sheets in search of warmth. Habitually, I reached for the side of the bed where Ethan usually slept, half-expecting him to be there, half-hoping. When my hand found nothing but empty linen, I let out a small sigh and swung my legs over the edge.
I got up, grabbed one of Ethan's oversized T-shirts from the floor, slipped it on along with a pair of simple underwear, then headed downstairs.
The moment I stepped out of the hallway, the smell hit me.
Something sweet.
Something buttery.
And something slightly burnt.
I followed the smell into the kitchen and stopped at the entrance.
There he was.
