Morning arrived not with light but with warmth.
Malvoria stirred slowly, her face pressed against the silk-soft fabric of Elysia's robe, arms wrapped tightly around her wife's waist.
The sheets were a mix of deep navy and moonlight grey, and the air held a faint chill, but none of it reached her. Not here. Not with this.
Elysia's fingers were already tangled in her hair, moving lazily through it, half-asleep. The rhythm was soothing hypnotic. Malvoria could've stayed like this forever.
She didn't want to wake up.
Not from this.
Not from the way her legs tangled with Elysia's beneath the covers. Not from the soft rise and fall of their breath syncing slowly.
Not from the way she could smell the faint trace of the bath oils on Elysia's skin, lavender and something sweetly floral. Everything about this was grounding, quiet, safe.
Malvoria pressed herself closer.
Elysia hummed sleepily. "Clingy this morning."
"Very," Malvoria muttered into her chest.
