The first rays of dawn slipped quietly through the massive windows of the penthouse suite, bathing the room in a soft, golden light.
Inside the room, it was warm, peaceful — filled only with the sound of slow, steady breathing.
James was the first to wake up. His eyes cracked open lazily, with his body still heavy with exhaustion.
For a moment, he couldn't even remember where he was — only that he was warm, comfortable, and... not alone.
Then he shifted slightly and felt it — the soft, warm weight draped across his chest and he looked down.
Natasha was curled up against him, one leg thrown possessively over his waist, her arm tucked under his side, her face buried into the crook of his neck. Her messy dark hair fanned out over his chest like a silk curtain.
She was completely, blissfully knocked out.
James smiled to himself, his hand moving slowly, brushing his fingers lightly through her hair.
