Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the penthouse in shades of gold and amber.
Felix stirred first, blinking against the light, feeling the warmth of Matteo's arm still draped across his waist.
He lay there for a moment, just breathing, listening to the steady rhythm of Matteo's heartbeat beneath his ear.
After yesterday's chaos, this felt almost surreal—the quiet, the safety, the simple pleasure of waking up next to someone he loved.
Carefully, so as not to wake Matteo, Felix extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and slipped out of bed.
The apartment was cool, and he padded on bare feet toward the kitchen, Matteo's sleep shirt hanging loose on his frame.
Coffee first. Then maybe toast. Something simple.
He could handle simple.
The kitchen gleamed in the morning light—all stainless steel and marble, pristine and slightly intimidating.
