Camila's POV
When I woke up, the sun was already creeping through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. For a moment, I didn't remember where I was. Then, the events of the night before came rushing back—the argument over the bed, the nightmare, and Nathaniel staying by my side.
I turned my head slowly, expecting to see him still sleeping. To my surprise, the bed next to me was empty. The pillow barrier had been pushed aside, and his side of the bed was slightly rumpled, as if he'd left in a hurry.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. As I stretched, the door swung open, and Nathaniel walked in, dressed in his usual dark attire, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"You're awake," he noted, his voice low.
I nodded, feeling strangely awkward. "Did you sleep well?" I blurted out, instantly regretting it.
His brow arched slightly. "Well enough. You?"
