My head spins feverishly as I open my eyes and adjust to the brightness. I’m on a bed, but it’s not one I recognize. I turn my head to the side without lifting it from the pillow.
Adrian sits at the piano bench, spine tall, playing softly. How many times have I watched him just like this? It all feels so familiar that it makes me want to cry.
I struggle slowly upright, my hair tumbling over my face, and the world shifts into its proper position.
He’s not wearing his stained green jacket anymore. The cuffs of his dark, long-sleeved shirt are pushed up to his elbows and his hair is combed back, though he’s left his beard as it was, untamed and unruly.
He glances to the side and gives me a shy smile.
Then he keeps playing. And strange as it may seem, I keep watching. Until the last note
