The first thing Amara felt was warmth. Not the kind from a blanket, but the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath her cheek. For a few seconds, she didn't move, afraid to break the spell. The faint thump of Daniel's heartbeat echoed against her ear, grounding her in a peace she hadn't known in years.
She blinked awake slowly, and the soft light of dawn spilled through the curtains. Her gaze drifted upward, and there he was—Daniel, still asleep, his features softened in slumber. His arm rested protectively around her waist as though even in dreams, he refused to let her go.
Her lips curved into a small, private smile. Carefully, she reached out and brushed a finger along his jaw. "You look so harmless like this," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
To her shock, his lips twitched. Then came a deep, husky murmur: "Harmless, huh? That's not what you said last night."
Amara's cheeks flushed instantly. "You're awake?"
"One eye." He cracked one open, smirking sleepily. "And I caught you staring. Don't deny it."
"I was not." She tried to hide her embarrassment by burying her face against his chest, but his laugh rumbled low and deep, vibrating beneath her cheek.
"You were," he teased, tightening his hold on her. "And I liked it."
Amara groaned, but she was smiling. It felt surreal—lying here in his arms, laughter bubbling between them. Mornings used to mean anxiety, but with Daniel, it felt like time had slowed just for them.
He shifted suddenly, rolling gently so that she was pinned beneath him. His weight was careful, his eyes still heavy with sleep but filled with mischief. "Good morning," he whispered, brushing his lips across hers in the softest kiss.
"Good morning," she replied, her fingers sliding up into his messy hair.
The kiss deepened, unhurried but sure, filling her chest with warmth. It wasn't wild passion like the night before—it was tender, grounding. A kiss that said last night wasn't a mistake.
When he pulled back, his thumb stroked her cheek. "You're glowing."
Amara scoffed lightly, trying to hide how the words shook her. "It's just the sunlight."
"No." His gaze held hers firmly. "It's you. Happiness looks good on you, Amara."
Her throat tightened, emotion threatening to spill over. He said it so simply, like it was a truth she should have always known. She didn't answer, afraid her voice would break. Instead, she slipped out from under him, teasing to cover the flood of feelings. "I should make breakfast before you starve."
Daniel leaned back, watching her stand in nothing but his shirt from last night. His smile widened, lazy and satisfied. "You think I'm hungry for food?"
She shot him a look over her shoulder, half flustered, half amused. "Behave, Daniel."
"Not a chance," he murmured, eyes following her every move as if memorizing this moment.
For the first time in a long while, Amara felt like she belonged. Not in a place, not in a title—but in someone's arms, in someone's heart.
And deep down, she knew mornings would never be the same again.