The warmth still lingered—not just from their skin or the clothes they hadn't bothered changing out of, but from the quiet hush that filled the room like a slow breath held between heartbeats.
The morning light had grown stronger, slipping deeper across the wooden floor and brushing against the table legs, but nothing else had changed. No one had moved, and no one seemed in a rush to.
Ethan sat with both arms wrapped loosely around the girls, not holding them tightly, just enough to keep them close.
Evelyn's head remained tucked into the side of his neck, the steady rhythm of her breathing warm against his skin.
At the same time, Everly stretched comfortably along his other side, her fingers still tangled with his, her body draped half across his lap like she belonged there and always had.
