Morning Theater
Fragments of dreams still clung to her when the quiet tap came at the door. Morning had just begun, gray light seeping through the curtains. Her eyes opened slow, unsteady from nights that offered little rest. A pause followed the sound - brief, unsure. The wood shivered slightly under another gentle strike. She sat up without rushing, limbs heavy but mind now alert. Outside, birds started their usual chorus. The air inside stayed still, untouched by wind.
"Selena, are you up? It's time for breakfast."
Softly, Veena D'Aurelius spoke into the trees, her tone a quiet presence, much like light slipping between fabric folds.
"Okay, Auntie."
Eyes gritty from lack of rest, Selena pushed herself upright. Light pressed hard against her vision. Sleep had slipped away again; each attempt to drift off brought back moments - how close he was, murmured words that meant nothing, the touch of her mouth on his neck.
Fingers touched skin where her cheek met palm.
Hot.
