On the left side of Alec’s head, his hair is slightly creased on one side, mussed from sleep. I lift my hand to the spot, running my fingers through his hair to smooth it down. Alec is always so poised and put together, and noticing this tiny imperfection triggers a wave of affection for him that makes my heart crawl into my throat. The vulnerability in his eyes as he looks down at me doesn’t help. “You were just…?” Alec repeats.
