#Chapter 56: Workaholic

Logan The morning light filtering through the porthole was far too harsh for the tenderness of the moment. I was drawn from my slumber not only by the bright sun peeking in through the window, but also by the sensation of movement beside me. Blinking against the invading light, I saw Ella pull away from our embrace. She was already up and looking for her clothes. As the morning sun painted the room in soft golds, I pretended to be still lost in sleep, though my attention was entirely on Ella. I watched her silently move about the room, engrossed in her thoughts. The oversized t-shirt she wore—one of mine—hung loosely on her, reaching mid-thigh and billowing gently as she moved. The contrast between the starkness of the shirt and her delicate frame was strangely endearing. Stray strands of her almost white hair cascaded over her shoulders, adding a touch of unruly elegance to her appearance. It was a side of Ella I rarely saw—vulnerable, natural, utterly beautiful