Amara woke slowly, her mind drifting between sleep and memory.
Warmth surrounded her — steady, gentle, familiar. For a moment she didn't understand why.
Then she felt it.
An arm around her waist. A breath against her shoulder. A heartbeat pressed softly against her back.
Adrian.
Her eyes opened, and she froze — not out of fear, but out of disbelief. He was still asleep, his face relaxed in a way she had never seen. No tension. No guarded expression. Just quiet peace.
She didn't move.
She didn't want to break the moment.
Last night replayed in her mind — his confession, his fear, his kiss. The way he held her like she mattered more than he could admit.
Her cheeks warmed.
She shifted slightly, and Adrian's arm tightened instantly, pulling her closer with a quiet, instinctive protectiveness.
A soft sound escaped him — a sleepy exhale — and he buried his face lightly against her shoulder.
Her heart fluttered.
He didn't even know he was doing it.
After a few seconds, his breathing changed. Slower. More aware. He was waking up.
"Amara…" he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
She turned gently in his arms. "Good morning."
His eyes opened — soft, warm, still hazy — and the moment he saw her, something in his expression softened even more.
"…Good morning," he whispered back.
He blinked, taking in how close they were. His arm was still around her waist, holding her like she belonged there. He cleared his throat softly.
"…We should get up," he murmured, though he didn't move an inch.
Amara smiled faintly. "You're the one holding me."
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "And you're loving it."
Her breath caught. "I… didn't say that."
"You didn't have to," he murmured, brushing his thumb lightly against her waist.
Her cheeks warmed, and for a moment neither of them moved.
Then Adrian shifted, bracing one hand on the mattress as he leaned over her slightly. Not trapping her — just close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, the quiet certainty in his gaze.
"Before I go…" he murmured.
Her breath stilled.
He dipped his head slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. She didn't. She couldn't.
His lips brushed hers — soft, warm, a gentle morning kiss that made her heart flutter wildly. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't demanding. It was the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.
Before she could even catch her breath, he leaned in again — this time pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. Warm. Lingering. Protective.
When he pulled back, his eyes held something unguarded, something only she got to see.
"Now I can leave," he whispered.
She swallowed, still breathless. "Okay."
He stood, moving silently across the room. His hand was already on the door when he paused and looked back at her.
"Amara."
She lifted her head.
His voice softened. "Don't overthink anything. Last night… and this morning… I meant all of it."
Her chest tightened. "I know."
A small smile tugged at his lips — rare, real, and only for her.
"I'll see you later," he said quietly.
Then he slipped out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.
Amara sat there for a long moment, her fingers touching her lips, her heart still racing.
Last night wasn't a dream.
And neither was this morning.
Whatever they were now… it was real. It was theirs. And for now, it was secret.