The soft light of morning filtered through the wooden slats, casting pale ribbons across the floorboards. The room was still, except for the steady rise and fall of Billy's breath.
Artur stirred first.
He blinked sleepily, eyes adjusting to the light, and realized Billy's arms were wrapped tightly around him, their legs tangled beneath the blankets. Artur gave a soft, amused exhale and gently began to shift, careful not to wake him. Billy's grip tightened instinctively for a second, then loosened.
Artur sat up, rubbed a hand down his face, then quietly slipped out from under the blanket. The cold floor nudged him fully awake. After washing up, he stepped into the main room where the smell of ground beans hung in the air.
Mr. Dand stood by the counter, one hand wrapped around his steaming mug, the other casually flipping through a folded newspaper.
"Morning," Artur murmured, voice still rough with sleep.
