(Aria and Damon’s POV interwoven)The sunlight filters through the curtains, soft and golden, and for the first time in weeks, the morning feels like ours. No alarms, no signals, no shadows lurking in the corners—just light and warmth.I stretch, feeling the tension in my shoulders finally ease. Damon is beside me, half-awake, his hand brushing mine across the sheets. The simplest touch feels miraculous.“Morning,” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep, eyes still heavy-lidded but soft, unguarded.“Morning,” I reply, smiling faintly. I reach for him, and his hand curls around mine, holding it close. It’s a quiet, steady reassurance.The room smells like coffee and rain from the night before, small normalities that anchor us to life beyond the chaos we endured. Damon’s eyes meet mine, and in them, I see the reflection of every fear, every heartbeat, every promise that brought us here.“Did you ever think we’d get here?” I ask so
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