The initial sensation I felt upon waking was warmth. Not only the warmth from the plush, opulent comforter but also from the individual next to me. Camille remained there, curled up against her pillow, breathing gently. Her hair, typically arranged in flawless waves or smoothly pulled back with ease, was a chaotic tangle over the sheets. A soft whisper slipped from her mouth as she clenched the pillow more firmly, her forehead fluttering as if she was dreaming.
I thought about waking her for a brief moment but chose not to. It was apparent that Camille wasn't particularly a morning person and she deserves some rest from time to time.
Ridding myself of the persistent sleepiness, I sat upright and extended my limbs. The unusual dimensions of the bedroom continued to surprise me. Everything around was streamlined, refined, and crafted for optimal comfort. I doubted that I would ever adapt to it.
I heard a slight rustle of activity coming from the kitchen. it was Sienna, obviously.
