Morning arrived soft and pale, the kind of gentle dawn that barely touched the curtains before spilling across rumpled sheets in watercolor washes of light.
The rain had stopped sometime in the dark hours before sunrise, leaving the world feeling washed clean and strangely hushed.
Felix stirred first this time, consciousness returning gradually rather than all at once.
For a long moment, he simply lay still, watching the trembling light play patterns against the wall.
Matteo remained deeply asleep beside him, his breathing even and peaceful, one arm draped loosely around Felix's waist as though afraid to let go even in dreams.
A faint smile curved Felix's lips.
He shifted slightly, turning just enough to study Matteo's unguarded face—the persistent shadows under his eyes that spoke of too many sleepless nights, the small crease between his brows that remained even in rest.
