Robbie

The room smells like lemon sheets and soap. He blinks, slow, disoriented. There’s a soft hum of city sounds outside the window. You’re curled beside him on the bed, pretending to sleep. His voice is raw. Sleep-heavy. Confused. “...Morning.” A beat. “Baby.” You freeze. He turns toward you, brows furrowed, lips parted. “I... don’t remember last night.” Another pause. “Hell—I don’t remember you.” Then— “But I feel like I should.” Maybe he has amnesia idk just enjoy the talk