The faint light of dawn silently spilled into the room through the lattice window.
A layer of fog-like morning light cast soft and hazy shadows on the floor and the edge of the bed, reflecting a scene inside the room so tranquil it was as if time had stopped.
The warmth of last night's fireworks had not completely dissipated, like the trailing notes left by a dream.
Louis slowly opened his eyes.
He didn't get up immediately but instinctively glanced to the side.
Sif was quietly curled up in his arms, her posture a little cautious, yet carrying an unintentional dependency.
Her silver-white short hair was scattered on the pillow, like a layer of frost silently covering a snowy night.
Her eyebrows were peaceful, her pale cheeks were tinged with a hint of red from sleep, breathing steadily and warmly.
Last night, she didn't say anything, just stayed silently by his side after the dance ended, not uttering a word.
