The sun had finally cleared the roofline of the neighboring houses, spilling a bright, buttery yellow across Annie's bedroom floor. She was still perched in her window seat, her charcoal pencil dancing across the paper, when she heard the muffled, familiar sound of a window sliding open across the alley.
Ethan appeared behind the glass, looking gloriously disheveled. His dark hair was a chaotic nest, standing up in every direction, and his eyes were heavy with the kind of deep, restorative sleep she had practically ordered him to get. He was shirtless, the morning light catching the lean muscle of his shoulders as he leaned his elbows on the sill.
He blinked against the brightness, his gaze searching her window until it landed on her. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face- the exact one with the dimple she had so painstakingly painted.
"You're supposed to be sleeping, babydoll," he called out, his voice a low, gravelly morning rumble that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
"Pot, meet kettle," Annie teased, leaning her chin on her hand. "You look like you just woke up from a century-long nap. Did you actually use the bed, or did you sleep on the floor out of habit?"
Ethan let out a soft huff of a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actual bed. It was weird. Too quiet without the sound of a heart monitor. I kept waking up reaching for a call button." He paused, his expression softening as he took her in. "How are the dreams? Any better?"
"The same," she admitted, her voice dropping an octave. "But looking at the three of you on my wall helps."
"The three of us?" Ethan tilted his head, his curiosity piqued.
"I hung the portraits," she said, her cheeks coloring slightly. "My mom, my dad, and... well, a very detailed study of a certain brooding neighbor. You're in good company."
Ethan's eyes sparkled with a sudden, playful light. "Is that so? I didn't know you painted me. Am I above the bed? So I can keep an eye on you while you sleep?"
"In your dreams, Hawthorne," Annie countered with a playful roll of her eyes. "You're by the door. So I can see you coming and going. It's for security purposes."
"I'll take it," he murmured, his gaze turning intense and warm. "I like being your security, Annie. Even if I'm just ink and paint."
The moment was thick with a sweet, private tension- the kind of quiet intimacy that felt like it belonged only to the alleyway between their rooms. It was their sanctuary, the one place Margaret's voice and the hospital's sterile lights couldn't reach.
But the sanctuary was about to be breached.
THUD-THUD-THUD.
The sound of heavy, uncoordinated footsteps raced up the hallway outside Annie's room.
"ANNIE! MOVIE DAY! PREPARE FOR CINEMATIC EXCELLENCE!" Riley's voice boomed through the door a split second before it burst open.
Annie jumped, nearly dropping her sketchbook as Riley and Ellie tumbled into the room. Riley was wearing a pair of neon green sweatpants and carrying a massive bowl of unpopped kernels, while Ellie followed behind, draped in three different fuzzy blankets like a nomadic queen.
"We decided you've had enough peace and quiet," Ellie announced, stopping in the middle of the room. She froze, her eyes darting to the open window. "Wait. Are you... are you fraternizing with the enemy across the way?"
Annie felt the heat rush to her face, a brilliant, unmistakable blush blooming from her neck to her hairline. She felt "caught" in a way she hadn't felt in years- like a teenager caught sneaking out, even though she was just sitting in her own room. This was their place, the alleyway where the memories lived, and having the twins standing there felt like someone had turned on the stadium lights during a private conversation.
"I was just... checking the weather," Annie stammered, quickly looking away from the twins and staring intently at a stray thread on her duvet.
Ethan, however, didn't look bothered at all. In fact, seeing Annie flustered only deepened his grin. He leaned further out the window, perfectly comfortable in his shirtless state, watching the way Annie tried to hide behind her hair.
"The weather is fine, El," Ethan called out, his voice full of a triumphant, amused edge. "Though it's getting a little warm in here, don't you think, Annie?"
Annie shot him a look that was supposed to be a glare but was betrayed by the shy smile tugging at her lips.
"Whatever," Riley shouted, leaning over Annie to look out the window. "Hey, man! We're doing a marathon. Lord of the Rings. Extended editions. It's going to take twelve hours and we have enough salt to give a horse a stroke. You in?"
Ethan looked at Annie. He saw the way she was still avoiding his eyes, her fingers nervously twisting her pencil. He knew she considered their window talks private, and he loved that he was the only one who got to see that side of her.
"Can I join, Annie?" Ethan asked, his voice softening, directing the question only at her. "Or is the 'security detail' not invited to the movie marathon?"
Annie finally looked up, meeting his gaze. The mischief in his eyes was infectious, and the protectiveness he always carried seemed to settle the frantic fluttering in her chest.
"I suppose we could use a detective," she said, her voice regaining its playful spark. "Someone has to make sure Riley doesn't eat all the good snacks in the first ten minutes."
"I'll be over in five," Ethan said, giving her a quick, meaningful wink before disappearing from the window to grab a shirt.
"Five minutes?" Riley yelled after him. "Make it two! The Hobbits wait for no man!"
As Ellie began spread-loading blankets across the floor, Annie looked back at the empty window across the way. She felt a strange, happy hum in her heart. The house was loud, the twins were chaotic, and she still couldn't remember everything- but as she looked at the portrait of Ethan hanging on her wall, she realized that some things didn't need to be remembered. They just needed to be felt.