Adam lay on his back, one arm behind his head, the other resting across his stomach. The ceiling above him was simple—just smooth stone, no constellations, no cosmic imagery. He'd asked for that years ago. Sometimes he got tired of looking at the universe.
Beside him, Aurora slept.
Her breathing was slow, even, peaceful. Her hair spread across the pillow like silver thread, catching the faint light from the window. One of her hands rested on his chest, fingers curled slightly, as if she'd fallen asleep mid-thought.
Adam didn't move. He just lay there, watching the ceiling, thinking.
It had been a while since he'd felt this still. This quiet. The kind of quiet that didn't feel like waiting for something to happen. Just… existing.
He smiled to himself.
Aurora stirred beside him, her fingers twitching against his chest. He looked down at her.
"You're awake," she murmured, not opening her eyes.
"Barely."
She cracked one eye open, looking at him. "You're thinking again."
