The sunlight poured through the half-open curtains, golden and heavy. Trafalgar blinked against it, feeling the warmth crawl across his face before he turned his head slightly. Mayla was still asleep beside him, her breathing steady, the faint curve of her lips resting against the pillow.
He stared for a moment at her. The old version of him, the one from the university back on Earth, would've called this impossible. 'How the hell did I end up here?' he thought. 'Living in a fantasy world, waking up next to her… I'm a bastard with absurd luck.'
He exhaled quietly, almost amused by the thought.
Mayla shifted slightly, the bedsheets rustling. Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. "Morning…" she murmured, her voice soft.
"Morning," he replied, sitting up. The sunlight hit his bare shoulders, already hot against his skin. Velkaris was warm this time of year — the kind of heat that made armor unbearable and excuses easy.
