The soft warmth of morning filtered through the thin curtains, the golden light stretching across the small guest room the orphanage had prepared for them. Dust motes drifted lazily in the sunbeams, untouched by the usual tension of Noel's mornings.
Noel blinked awake slowly.
There was warmth against his chest.
Charlotte's warmth.
Her breathing was soft, calm… steady. Her arms were loosely wrapped around him, her forehead resting just below his collarbone, pink hair scattered messily over the pillow they shared.
Noel didn't move at first.
Not because he was embarrassed — he was long past that stage — but because seeing Charlotte sleep so peacefully, so openly leaning on him, always did something to him.
'She looks so relaxed…' he thought, surprised and relieved in equal measure.
A ripple of shadow curled at the edge of the mattress.
Noir emerged from beneath the bed, stretching with a tiny yawn before hopping up onto Noel's side.
