The first light crept in quietly—pale gold threading through the curtains, brushing against Matteo's face with gentle insistence.
The room held that particular quality of stillness, heavy with the kind of peace that only settles after a long storm has finally passed.
Felix stirred first, consciousness returning gradually.
His eyes fluttered open to find the soft, steady rhythm of Matteo's breathing beside him.
For a long, suspended moment, he didn't move—didn't want to disturb whatever fragile magic had carried them through the night. He simply watched.
Matteo lay turned slightly toward him, one arm draped loosely over the sheet, dark hair tousled against the pillow in a way that made him look unexpectedly approachable.
The faintest shadow of exhaustion softened his usually sharp features, smoothing away the careful control he maintained during waking hours.
He looked younger somehow, in a way Felix rarely witnessed. Vulnerable. Profoundly human.
