The first rays of dawn crept through the gauzy curtains of a hotel room, painting soft streaks of gold across the white sheets where Lila lay fast asleep. Her dark brown hair fanned across the pillow, her chest rising and falling with the gentle rhythm of deep slumber, a faint smile curving her lips as if her experience last night held some quiet joy.
Alister stood at the foot of the bed. He put on a long black coat that was draped over a chair, his black hair catching the light as he adjusted his gloves. He glanced at her peaceful expression, and a rare, unguarded smile appeared on his own lips—a fleeting warmth that softened his often sharp expression.
"Sleep well," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, before turning toward the balcony doors. The glass panes parted with a soft click as he stepped out, the cool morning air brushing against his face.
