were the sun staring right at him.
it was the first thing that came to mind, but it was true. she missed his voice, the way he took her hand as they walked down the street, the sound of him strumming his guitar in the early morning light, waking her the same way he put her to sleep at night. that was their last good moment together. she’d opened her eyes to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, strumming and singing softly about being caught up in a girl and never wanting to be free of her. she’d stretched and reached for him. he halfway turned, giving her 