Maya woke to the weight of an arm across her waist and the sound of breathing that wasn't her own. She lay still. The room was gray. Early. The street below was quiet. The radiator clicked once, then stopped. She turned her head. Idris was beside her, facing her, one arm stretched across her, the other tucked under his pillow. His eyes were closed. His mouth was slightly open. He looked younger like this. Softer. The lines of exhaustion that had been carved into his face at the airport were gone. She watched him breathe. She'd woken up next to people before. Jess, on mornings when neither of them wanted to move. Her mother, during thunderstorms when she was small enough to crawl into her bed. But this was different. This was someone choosing to be here. Someone she'd chosen back. His arm tightened around her waist. He pulled her closer without opening his eyes. "You're staring," he said. His voice was rough, half-asleep. "You're supposed to be asleep." "I was. You woke me." "
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