The first thing that hit me wasn't light.
It was silence, the kind that only existed on Saturdays, when the world outside forgot to wake up on time.
My phone buzzed against the nightstand.
I didn't bother checking who it was. The voice that came through was all the confirmation I needed.
"Good morning, soldier," Reina purred.
Her tone carried warmth, that quiet, low hum that somehow slipped under your skin.
"Morning already?" I muttered, rubbing a hand through my hair.
"Mhm." I could hear her smile through the receiver. "You sound half-dead. Were you up all night again?"
"Maybe," I said, letting the word drawl. "Thinking about you tends to ruin my sleep."
A soft laugh, tender and teasing. "Smooth. I should prescribe you something for that."
"You could just let me come over."
There was a pause, the kind of silence that was all breath and intent.
Then:
"Clinic's quiet today," she said softly. "You could stop by. I'll… make sure the doors stay locked."
