It was half past eleven. I could reasonably wake up at five. Six and a half hours. I could do this. I stared at the ceiling, my jaw tight, while Vivian turned and tossed. Every dip of the mattress reminded me she was there. Half-naked, close enough to touch, and smelling like an apple orchard after a morning rainstorm. I didn’t even like apples.
bro he is tripping
