The morning did not arrive with urgency that day, nor did it feel like a clean separation from the night before, because something about the air itself had changed its behavior, as though even time was reluctant to disturb what had quietly settled between Rudra and Meera in the hours that had passed, and the first light that slipped through the tall arched window did not feel like illumination so much as acknowledgment, soft and gradual, touching the edges of the room with a gentleness that made everything feel slightly more real than before.Meera woke before she fully opened her eyes, not because of sound or interruption, but because of awareness, a kind of awareness that does not belong to sleep and does not fully belong to wakefulness either, but exists somewhere in between where thoughts have not yet formed into language, and for a few seconds she simply remained still, listening to the faint structure of the house outside the room-the distant movement of footsteps, the muted rhy
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