Kya woke to the feeling of warmth.
Not sunlight. Not blankets. Julian.
His arm was draped over her waist, his breath soft against the back of her neck, his body curved around hers like he’d been made to fit there. For a moment, she didn’t move. She just let herself feel it — the quiet, the safety, the rare stillness of a morning without alarms or obligations.
Julian shifted behind her, tightening his arm slightly as if sensing she was awake. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice low and still rough with sleep.
Kya smiled into the pillow. “Morning.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder — unhurried, gentle, the kind of affection that didn’t ask for anything in return. “We don’t have to get up yet,” he whispered.
She turned to face him, their noses almost touching. His hair was tousl
