The sun filtered in through the gauzy curtains, casting pale gold across the studio floor. Debra stirred first, blinking against the light, her cheek pressed to Lean's shoulder. The blanket had slipped halfway off them in the night, but neither moved to fix it.
For a long while, they didn't speak.
Lean's fingers traced lazy circles on Debra's back, and Debra, still half-asleep, hummed in response. The world outside was beginning to stir-distant traffic, a dog barking, the faint clink of someone's breakfast dishes-but in here, time moved differently.
"I had a dream," Debra murmured.
"Yeah?" Lean's voice was husky with sleep.
"You were painting a mural on the side of a train. And I was just… watching. Eating grapes. Like a queen."
Lean chuckled. "Sounds about right. Did I finish it?"
"No. You kept getting distracted kissing me."
"Well," Lean said, turning her head to kiss Debra's temple, "some things are more important than murals."
They lay there a while longer, tangled and quiet, until Debra finally sat up and stretched, her hair a wild halo in the morning light.
"I don't want to go back to real life yet," she said.
"You don't have to," Lean replied. "Not today."
Debra looked at her, eyes soft. "You sure?"
"I'm sure. Let's stay here. Let's make pancakes. Let's not talk about anything that starts with 'uncle' or ends in 'fraud.'"
Debra laughed. "Deal."
They made pancakes with too much cinnamon and not enough measuring. Lean danced barefoot to an old playlist while Debra sat on the counter, stealing blueberries and pretending to be helpless so Lean would feed her, there was still no title to their relationship...
After breakfast they painted a little. Talked about nothing. Debra showed Lean a half-finished sketch of a girl with wings made of broken glass.
"She looks like she's healing," Lean said.
Debra blinked. "I didn't even realize." "you should consider getting into a gift you got an eye for it" Deb added looking at Lean with soft eyes.
"well i dont know.. I love tech more"
They kissed again-slow, familiar. Not the kind that leads anywhere urgent. Just the kind that says, I see you. I'm here.
....
At night, they curled up once more, this time with a different film-something dreamy and slow, full of candlelight and stolen glances. A love story that didn't rush to prove itself.
Halfway through, the characters kissed in the rain, and Debra turned to Lean with a smirk.
"Déjà vu?"
Lean grinned. "You gonna kiss me again, or just narrate it?"
Debra leaned in. "Both."
They kissed, then burst into laughter when the movie's dramatic score swelled behind them.
"I feel like we're in a parody of ourselves," Debra said, giggling.
"Then let's be the best damn parody ever," Lean replied, pulling her close.
And for this night, they were.
The world could wait.