Morning Memories
Sleepless nights haunt Hanna. But there's nothing quite the memories of what she once had to bring a chill to her morning.
The soft yet irritating rays of first light began to filter through the bedroom window. The gentle light scattered across the freckled skin of the woman laying awake in bed. Sleep, much less good sleep, was becoming a rare luxury for Hanna. Her thoughts and the subtle whispers of the invisible entities kept her awake.
Hanna simply stared at the empty half of her bed, an arm thrown across the empty space as if it knew that something or someone was meant to be there. Her eyes pinned to the pillow next to her as the fuzzy memories flooded her mind.
She could picture her first love. Frøya’s blonde hair was thrown about the pillow from when she would move in her sleep. Her porcelain-like skin illuminated so beautifully in the glow of the morning light. She was still asleep, the light of the day had yet to wake her. Hanna wanted nothing more than to reach over and gently push hair out of her face.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d be greeted by the sea of blues and green that always danced around in Frøya’s eyes. Slowly, carefully, Hanna’s hand moved to enact her plan. But the moment Hanna’s hand touched the other, the blonde dissipated into fog.
Hanna blinked as she stared at the hand lifted in front of her, hovering over the empty pillow. She never liked looking at that hand. It felt so light, so naked, without the gold band that once proudly called her ring finger home. It had been close to five years since it last sat there. Hanna would swear that the tan line was still there if you looked hard enough.
Letting out a muffled sigh as she buried her face back into the pillows, the freckled hand fell back to the mattress with a thump. The Dane simply lying in silence for a few more minutes, her eyes closed as she tried to clear her mind of the memories the morning had brought.
An empty bed was nothing new. But the cold felt overwhelming as she laid under her comforter in the equatorial heat. She could enjoy the company of pretty well anyone. Anyone could fill that space next to her. Anyone could take her breath away like those before. Anyone could pry sounds from her. She could take anyone to bed.
But that would never change the fact that the bed always felt cold without her.