Soon, Seraphine and Ira stirred on their own.
Leon was already awake — had been for a while, not restless, just comfortable in the specific way that made getting up feel unnecessary. Both of them warm against him, the room quiet, the dimensional world doing its thing outside. He hadn't been sleeping deeply. Just enjoying the particular peace of lying still between two people he genuinely wanted to be next to.
This is a good morning, he thought simply.
Then Seraphine moved, and Ira made the sound she always made when waking up — a short noise that was half protest and half acceptance — and the morning became practical.
