The world outside had quieted, but inside their safehouse, time felt suspended. The morning light slid gently through the curtains, painting golden lines across the bed where Aria lay awake, her thoughts caught between past and present. Luca was still sleeping, his breathing steady, his face softened by peace she rarely saw. It felt almost cruel that he could rest so easily when she still carried the weight of everything they'd lost.
She turned onto her side, studying him. The scar on his temple was still visible, a faint mark left by the accident that stole months of their lives and fractured their story. She had spent those months fighting for him, fighting to keep him alive, fighting to hold onto a love that sometimes felt like a ghost haunting her. Now he was here, breathing beside her, and yet part of him was still somewhere else.
When he stirred, his eyes fluttered open and found her. "You're staring again," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
