The next morning began with sunlight spilling through the sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the hotel room. Lea blinked awake first, groggy but feeling the faint hum of Hugo's pheromone lingering in the air—fresh lime mixed with something faintly warm and comforting. When she turned, she found Hugo still asleep beside her, hair messy and face softened in rare calmness.
He looked nothing like the sharp, intimidating man people saw on set. This version of Hugo—the one who mumbled in his sleep and clutched the blanket like it might run away—was hers alone.
"Wake up," she murmured, poking his cheek.
Hugo groaned and buried his face in the pillow. "Five more minutes…"
Lea chuckled. "You said that yesterday too."
He cracked one eye open and smirked. "And yet, you still woke me up with that cute voice. Are you sure you're not secretly addicted to me?"
She swatted his arm lightly. "You wish. Get up, sleepy wolf. We have to shower and head to the new set."
