Jason's Pov
The ringtone sliced through the quiet like a thread snapping in a dream. Groggy and disoriented, I fumbled around until my hand landed on my phone, its face lit up with a pale glow. 6:13 a.m. The world outside the window still looks hushed and blue.
I turned to my side, and there she was.
She lay beside me, tangled in the sheets, one bare shoulder peeking out, her hair a soft mess spilling across the pillow. She was still asleep, breathing slow and steady, completely unaware of the chaos fluttering in my chest. The early light softened everything, making her look even more unreal.
At that moment, it struck me once more, much like it had the previous night: I was beginning to develop feelings for her. It was not as dramatic or abrupt as depicted in films. It wasn't as loud and sudden as movies portray it. But in the quiet, creeping way that makes me want to memorize the way she breathes when she's dreaming.
