You wake slowly. It is still the early hours of the morning, and your eyes are groggy with sleep as you rub them, fingers fumbling in the darkness. If you were a man of poetry, chances are that you would take this opportunity to wax lyrical about the beauty of the full moon. You're not, however, so you take one look at the way the moon hangs at the crown of the sky, and decide to go back to sleep.
You sink back into your covers, and reach an arm over to the other side of the bed.
... Which is empty. And cold.
Hm.
>> You decide to investigate.
>> You're too tired for this. You just want to sleep.You are Felix Hugo Fraldarius, and you wake to find your husband missing from your bed.
COULD NOT THINK OF A CLEVER TITLE so this will have to do
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NOTES:
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