The late afternoon sun spilled through the window, casting a bright yellow glow onto the bed where Wesley lay sleeping.
The light filtered through the blinds, falling across the sheets in elongated stripes and creeping up the bed as the sun dipped lower.
A single sunbeam landed on Wesley’s face, waking him with its intrusive brightness.
Flinching, he reached for the remote controls on the side of the bed, fumbling blindly until his fingers found the triangle shape he knew was the UP arrow.
He pressed the button, raising himself to a half-sitting position to get the sun out of his eyes.
Annoyed at being woken up, he glowered at the window as he yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“Hey,” said a familiar voice to his left.
Wesley turned toward the voice and saw Cordelia sitting in a chair beside the bed, an open magazine in her lap.
“Cordelia,” Wesley said, his irritation forgotten. “Hi.”
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