DAMIAN'S POV
Morning arrived without ceremony, the kind that slipped in quietly through half-drawn curtains and settled itself into the room as if it had always been there. Emma woke before the alarm, before the city outside stirred into its daily rhythm, before the weight of the day could fully descend on her chest. For a moment, she lay still, staring at the faint line of light tracing the edge of the ceiling, listening to the soft, even sound of Damian's breathing beside her.
It was strange how familiar that sound had become again.
Not easy. Not uncomplicated. But familiar.
