The morning sun filtered through the massive glass windows of the penthouse, washing everything in a soft golden glow. The city stretched below, alive and restless, but in the bedroom, time felt slowed, suspended in the hush of early hours.
Alex stirred first. His curls were messy, sticking in every direction, and his skin still carried the warmth of the night before. He blinked against the light, then rolled over to find Liam sprawled beside him — one arm thrown lazily over the pillow, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths.
For a moment, Alex just looked at him. The sharp jaw, the curls that had fallen into his face, the faint bruise-like love marks he himself had left trailing down Liam's neck. He smiled, heart swelling with something so fierce it almost hurt.
"Wake up," Alex whispered, pressing a quick kiss to Liam's cheek.
