After Next
The morning sunlight filtered through Muri's curtains, painting gold across the messy sheets and her bare feet tangled in the blanket. She blinked slowly, the haze of sleep still soft in her mind.
Lex was still there.
Not in her bed, but in her chair, legs stretched out, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted to the side. He'd fallen asleep at some point in the night, still fully dressed, looking unfairly good even like that.
Muri smiled to herself. No regrets. Just the echo of heat, laughter, and something that almost felt like comfort.
She slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him, and padded to the kitchen. As the coffee brewed, she leaned against the counter, replaying last night in her head. The way he'd looked at her like she was something rare. The way he didn't push.
A soft shuffle behind her.
"I should go," Lex mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.
"You could," she said without turning around. "Or I could make you coffee."
He stepped closer. "That an invitation?"
"It's not a trap, if that's what you're asking."
Lex chuckled and gently took the mug she handed him. "You don't scare me, Muri."
She looked up at him. "I think I kind of want to."
He met her gaze, eyes serious for a beat. "You don't have to scare me to matter to me."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was heavy with meaning.
Muri sipped her coffee slowly. "This doesn't have to be anything, you know. Last night… I just needed someone."
"I know," Lex said. "But maybe I did too."
They didn't kiss. Again. But something had shifted.
This wasn't just the morning after.
It was the beginning of after next.