Dawn spilled softly into the room, golden light pooling at the edges of the curtains and stretching across the tangled sheets. The quiet hum of the waking world hadn't reached them yet. It was still the kind of silence that clung to dreams—the kind that lingered after passion had melted into peace.
Vyan stirred, his arm lazily draped over Iyana's waist, their limbs entwined like vines. Her skin was warm against his, her cheek nestled against his shoulder. She was breathing steadily, eyes closed, though her brows twitched every now and then—as if her thoughts were still dancing somewhere between the night before and the world now peeking in through the windows.
He smiled to himself, a tired, content kind of smile, and gently tucked the blanket up over her bare shoulders. The room had gotten cooler with the break of dawn. His hand lingered for a second longer on her arm before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips sink into her hair.
