SerenaI woke up slowly.Not the sharp, sudden kind of waking that came with bad dreams or an early alarm. This was the soft kind — the kind where consciousness arrives gently, like light coming in under a door. Gradual and warm.Ethan's arm was around me.His chest rose and fell against my back in the steady rhythm of someone still half-asleep, his breath warm against the back of my neck. His hand was open against my stomach — not holding, just resting. Like even in sleep he wanted to know I was there.I lay still for a moment and just let myself feel it.This. Him. The quiet of the early morning before the world remembered to be complicated.I turned carefully, slowly, not wanting to pull him out of sleep too quickly. He stirred anyway — he always did when I moved, like some part of him was always partly alert, always keeping track of me even in rest.His eyes opened. Heavy-lidded, dark, finding mine immediately."Morning," he said. His voice was rough with sleep, lower than usual.
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