Breakfeast
The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the stone floor. I blinked against the brightness, groaning slightly as the remnants of sleep clung to me.
Seraphine's arm was still draped across my waist, her body warm against mine, her breathing slow and steady. For a moment, everything was quiet, peaceful, and then, without warning, Seraphine shifted beside me.
"Morning, sunshine," she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep, but there was a mischievous tone in it, one that I recognized all too well.
I groaned again, turning to bury my face in the pillow. "Too early," I muttered, my voice muffled by the soft fabric. My entire body felt heavy, like I'd been tangled in a dream I wasn't quite ready to leave.
Seraphine, however, was having none of it. Her fingers, still lazy from sleep, started tickling my sides, and I jolted upright, completely unprepared.