The light filtering through the curtains was gentle, almost forgiving. I stirred beneath the soft weight of the blanket, my body still humming with the remnants of exhaustion and something else — a strange mixture of relief and lingering heat that clung to my skin like a second layer.
I blinked slowly, taking in the quiet comfort of the room. The last thing I remembered was Adrien carrying me, warm water cradling my limbs as the world slipped away beneath the surface. I didn't know when I'd fallen asleep, but the memory still felt vivid, like a fragile thread holding me tethered to safety.
The mattress shifted beneath me as he moved, his hands tracing slow, small circles on my lap. The intimacy of the gesture made my throat tighten in a way I couldn't explain. My fingers curled around his wrist without thinking.
"Breakfast is ready," his voice was low, rough with sleep, but steady. I turned to see him watching me, a softness in his eyes that made my chest ache.
