Chapter Fifteen.

The sunlight filtering through the cheap hotel curtains was too soft to be a real disturbance, yet it still managed to pull Harlow from sleep. She blinked groggily, her body still tangled in Sage's warmth. Their legs were twisted together, Sage's arm slung lazily across Harlow's waist, her breath steady against Harlow's shoulder.

For a few long moments, Harlow just lay there, absorbing the quiet, the comfort of waking up beside the person she loved. It felt unreal, like something from a dream she never wanted to end.

But then, right on cue, Sage stirred, groaning dramatically. "Morning already? Ugh."

Harlow chuckled, stretching her arms above her head. "You act like you didn't sleep for ten hours."

Sage cracked one eye open, smirking. "Correction: I slept for ten perfect hours with my gorgeous girlfriend beside me."

Harlow rolled her eyes, grinning. "Smooth."

"I try." Sage pressed a lazy kiss to Harlow's shoulder before sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Okay, breakfast. What are we feeling? Greasy and fast? Fancy and overpriced?"

Harlow hummed in thought, but before she could answer, something in her chest twisted—tight, sudden, and sharp. The sensation shot through her body like a jolt of electricity, followed by a rush of dizziness that made her stomach lurch.

She sucked in a breath.

Something was wrong.

Her heartbeat wasn't just fast—it was wrong, too loud, too erratic. The hotel room felt suddenly too small, the air too thick. She blinked rapidly, her fingers twitching against the sheets.

Sage was saying something, but the words were distant, muffled, as if they were underwater. Harlow swallowed hard, the nausea rolling over her in waves.

"Sage." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I feel… high."

Sage's brows pulled together. "What?"

"I feel high." Harlow gripped the sheets, her breathing shaky. "But I didn't smoke. I feel like I'm floating, like—like I'm not even real."

Understanding flashed in Sage's eyes. She moved instantly, her hands finding Harlow's, her voice steady. "Hey, hey. You're okay. That's just dissociation, babe. It happens sometimes. I get it."

Harlow squeezed her eyes shut. Her body wasn't listening to her. She knew she was in this room, that she was sitting on this bed, but everything felt wrong, distorted. Like she was just watching herself from a distance.

Sage squeezed her hands. "I need you to focus on me, okay? Breathe with me." She inhaled slowly, exaggerating the motion. Harlow tried to follow, but her lungs felt shallow, her body disconnected.

"Everything's too much," Harlow whispered.

"I know, I know," Sage soothed, rubbing her thumb over Harlow's knuckles. "But you're safe. You're here with me. This is just your brain being a little asshole."

A shaky laugh broke through Harlow's panic. Sage always had a way of making things feel lighter, even when they were heavy.

"Good," Sage murmured. "See? You're already coming back to me."

Harlow focused on the warmth of Sage's hands, the slight roughness of her palms. Slowly, the fog in her head started to lift, the weight on her chest easing just enough to let her breathe properly.

After a few more moments, she let out a long sigh, finally meeting Sage's eyes. "God, I feel like an idiot."

Sage frowned. "Don't say that."

"I just had a whole panic attack in front of you over… nothing."

Sage scoffed. "That wasn't nothing, Harlow. You felt something, even if it didn't make sense. And you know what? I get it. It happens to me all the time."

Harlow searched her face. "Really?"

Sage nodded. "All the time. I could be doing something completely normal and then bam, suddenly I feel like I'm not even in my own body. It's terrifying."

Harlow swallowed, her chest still aching from the panic attack. "How do you deal with it?"

"I remind myself that it always passes." Sage ran her fingers gently over Harlow's wrist. "I focus on what's real—what I can touch, what I can hear, what I can smell. And when it gets really bad, I do something that makes me feel here, like listening to music or holding onto someone I trust."

Harlow nodded, exhaling shakily. "That… makes sense."

Sage grinned. "Good. Because I'm a genius."

That earned another laugh from Harlow. She leaned into Sage's embrace, letting her girlfriend's warmth ground her completely.

Sage pressed a kiss to Harlow's temple. "Okay, beautiful. What can we do today to make you feel better?"

Harlow thought for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. "Well, since I got paid last night, and neither of us work until five, how about we go back to Macy's Diner for breakfast and figure out the rest from there?"

Sage's eyes lit up. "Hell yes. You know I'll never say no to that place."

"Good," Harlow said. "Then let's get dressed."

Harlow rummaged through her duffel bag before deciding that nothing she packed felt right. Instead, she grabbed one of Sage's hoodies from the chair, pulling it over her head. It was oversized on her, the sleeves swallowing her hands, and it smelled like Sage—warm, slightly sweet, with a hint of something earthy.

Sage, already dressed in a pair of black joggers, turned from the mirror and smirked. "Oh, so we're stealing my clothes now?"

Harlow smirked right back. "You love it."

"Yeah, yeah." Sage rolled her eyes, but her grin gave her away. She turned back to the mirror, tying her dark curls up into a messy bun. She studied her reflection for a moment, tilting her head slightly.

Harlow noticed. "What?"

Sage pulled at a few strands of hair. "I don't know… I've been thinking about cutting it."

Harlow crossed the room, slipping her arms around Sage's waist from behind. "You'd look hot with short hair." She met Sage's eyes in the mirror, smirking. "But, for the record, I think you're gorgeous no matter what."

Sage's cheeks turned slightly pink, and Harlow considered that a win.

"You're such a flirt," Sage muttered, but she leaned back into Harlow's embrace, a soft smile on her lips.

"Only for you."

Sage let out a dramatic sigh. "God, I'm so lucky."

Harlow giggled. "Yes, yes you are."

The cool morning air greeted them as they stepped outside, the parking lot mostly empty. Sage unlocked her car, and Harlow slid into the passenger seat, pulling her legs up onto the seat as she got comfortable.

Sage started the engine, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "Alright, Macy's Diner, round two. Let's go."

Harlow glanced over at her, warmth swelling in her chest. Even after everything—after the panic attack, after the heaviness in her mind—Sage was still here. Still looking at her like she was the best thing in the world.

And for the first time that morning, Harlow felt okay.

Sage pulled out of the parking lot, the radio humming softly in the background. The world stretched out before them, open and full of possibilities.

And whatever happened next, they'd face it together.