Morning didn't arrive all at once. It seeped in gently, pale light brushing the edges of the room, finding them exactly as they were.
Jay woke wrapped in warmth.
Keifer's arms were around her, not tight, not loose—just certain. His chin rested near her temple, his breathing soft and even, like sleep had finally convinced him it was safe to stay. She lay still, listening, letting herself believe this quiet was real.
She shifted slightly, and his body responded before his mind did. His arm tightened, drawing her closer, his thumb brushing over her side in a slow, unconscious motion.
As if he knew.
She smiled, eyes stinging a little, and turned carefully to face him.
His lashes fluttered, then lifted. For a moment, he just looked at her—sleepy, open, unguarded. No walls. No weight. Just her.
"Hi," he whispered, voice barely there.
"Hi," she breathed back.
He reached up, fingers brushing her cheek like he was memorizing her in the light. His touch was warm, reverent, as though she might vanish if he wasn't careful enough.
"You're here," he murmured, a soft wonder in his voice.
"I am."
Something eased in his expression. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, their noses brushing. The kiss that followed was slow and tender, more a promise than a question.
They stayed like that, breathing each other in, the world reduced to shared warmth and quiet heartbeats. No one needed anything. Nothing was being asked for.
Jay tucked herself closer, her head settling against his chest. His arms folded around her fully now, protective and gentle all at once.
Keifer pressed a kiss into her hair and whispered, "Stay."
She didn't answer with words. She simply curled into him, fitting perfectly, and closed her eyes.
And for a while—just a little while—morning held its breath with them.
They didn't speak.
The morning held them in a gentle silence, like the room itself was afraid to interrupt. Jay lay against Keifer's chest, her ear pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was calm, steady, a quiet reassurance that made her feel… safe.
Keifer's hand rested lightly on her back, fingers tracing slow, absent circles. Each touch was small, but it said everything he couldn't put into words.
Jay shifted just a little, and Keifer adjusted without waking. His arm slid tighter around her, as if to remind her he was still there—still hers in this moment.
She tilted her head up slightly, watching him without making a sound. He noticed her gaze and smiled, just a little, as if he'd been waiting for her to look at him.
He reached up, thumb brushing her lower lip, not touching, just hovering—like he was testing if she was still real.
Then he let his fingers fall to her hair, gently combing through it with a tenderness that made Jay's breath catch.
Her hand found his, fingers lacing together. They didn't need to speak. The silence was enough.
Keifer's thumb rubbed slow circles over the back of her hand. Jay pressed her cheek against his chest, letting herself feel the steady rise and fall beneath her. The warmth of him was all she wanted.
A soft sigh escaped her, and Keifer leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead—soft, careful, like he was afraid to wake her too harshly.
"Don't go," he whispered, voice barely audible.
Jay's fingers tightened around his. "I'm not," she whispered back.
He hummed, satisfied, and held her closer. His other hand slid to her waist, pulling her even nearer, as if he could erase every distance they'd ever had simply by staying like this.
For a long time, they stayed wrapped in each other's warmth—no need for words, no need for anything but the quiet certainty of being together.
And in that silent morning, they both realized something without saying it:
This was where they belonged.