"Harlow makes waffles at six in the morning?"
"Harlow doesn't sleep. I'm fairly certain she runs on enthusiasm and sugar."
Isaiah snorted, and the sound loosened something in Sabrina's chest. He was still here. Still looking at her like she was something worth looking at. Still touching her like he couldn't quite believe he was allowed to.
"Fine. Breakfast. But then I really have to go."
"I know."
She kissed him then, soft and unhurried, morning breath be damned. His hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb stroking across her cheekbone in a gesture that felt more intimate than anything they'd done in the dark.
When they finally pulled apart, Isaiah was watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just." He paused, seemed to struggle with the words. "You're different in the morning."
"Different how?"
"Softer. Less like you're three moves ahead of everyone else in the room."
