Mirae's alarm went off before the dawn light. For a moment, she lay still, the warmth of the night clinging to her skin, the world outside the windows muted by the heavy rain. Joon-ho's arm was draped over her waist, his breathing deep and even, but Harin's side of the bed was empty, the sheets already cool. Mirae rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Her body still ached pleasantly from the night before—her lips tingled, her thighs felt raw and alive—but her mind was running wild, already skipping ahead to the day's schedule: the first full table read for "Eclipse" and the unveiling of LUNE's new OST track.
She slipped from the covers, careful not to wake Joon-ho, and padded to the bathroom. The house was already alive: the faint clatter of pans from the kitchen, a kettle whistling, the smell of coffee drifting down the hall. Mirae pulled on her robe, tied her hair back, and followed the scent.
