The rise and fall of Ainar’s chest pressed against his back is a soothing feeling. They’re lying on the bed—his bed, he had come to know that now. Turns out, the room where he woke up in was supposed to be his room if he hadn’t disappeared before. His parents told him so. With that new knowledge, Gavin had come to notice the details more. The empty shelves that he had only bypassed before now looked different to him, the table beside the bed, the furs—how everything is white because it screams of him. He sees everything in new perspectives. He wonders if his parents go to this room every time they think of him, trying to grasp a semblance of him in the things they thought would fit him the best if only he was there.
His parents.
Huh. Saying it still feels strange. And it makes sense, it has only been hours since everything was revealed to him.
And it
