Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting long stripes across the floor. I stretched and yawned, the quiet hum of the house making it feel safe in a way I hadn't felt in weeks.
He was in the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, leaning casually against the counter as he sipped his coffee. I paused in the doorway, a small smile tugging at my lips.
"You know," I said, voice teasing, "it's weird to think… five days ago, I thought you were going to kill me."
He glanced at me, brow arched, and then a slow smile spread across his face. "Five days ago?" he echoed. "I think it was more like, every day for the first three weeks."
I laughed, the sound light and airy, and he chuckled in response. The tension that had always lingered between us seemed to melt a little more in the warmth of the morning.
I moved closer, leaning casually against the doorway. "And now?" I asked, tilting my head. "Do you still want to kill me, or is it safe to talk?"
"Safe," he said simply, eyes softening as he set the mug down. "Though you keep testing me, so who knows."
I laughed again, feeling the corners of my lips lift without even trying. "I'm just… making sure you're still paying attention."
He smirked, a spark of mischief in his gaze. "I am. Don't worry."
We moved around the kitchen together, him preparing something simple for breakfast while I cleaned up, our conversation light and easy. The playful teasing, the subtle smiles, the way our eyes occasionally met—it was comfortable, warm, and a little thrilling.
After a while, he set a plate in front of me. "Here. Don't burn yourself on the stove like last time," he said with mock severity.
I grinned, taking the plate. "Noted. I promise I'll only mildly singe my eggs."
We laughed together, a soft, shared sound that made my chest feel light. Sitting across from him, I realized just how far we had come in such a short time—from fear and distrust to playful morning banter, a closeness that felt both new and natural.
Later that night, when I climbed into the bed, he followed as usual, sitting beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder, letting the quiet of the house and the steady warmth of him envelop me.
"I can't believe how much has changed in just a few days," I murmured, almost to myself.
He kissed the top of my head, soft and gentle. "Me neither," he said. "But I like it."
I smiled, closing my eyes. "Yeah… me too."
And as I drifted off to sleep, I realized that safety, warmth, and maybe even… happiness, were no longer things I could only imagine—they were here, tangible, and somehow, they were ours.