"Some people dream of stars. We just wanted saltwater and sky"
Morning came like a gentle tide—slow, bright, unhurried.
For the first time in what felt like years, I'd slept through the night. No pills. No nightmares dragging me under. No cold sweat. Just... sleep. Actual sleep.
I almost didn't believe it when I opened my eyes to the soft glow on my curtains.
Maybe peace wasn't something that arrived all at once. Maybe it came in small pieces—like this.
I padded downstairs, still barefoot, hair a mess, hoodie too big on me. The estate was quiet—no tension in the walls, no shadows waiting to swallow me whole.
Just quiet.
I made my way to the kitchen and poured coffee into my favorite mug. I wrapped my hands around it and breathed in the warmth. Earthy. Steady. Familiar.
I took a sip.
It tasted like a new beginning.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps upstairs—slow, heavy, familiar. The kind of steps I'd learned to recognize before I even fully understood what comfort meant.
Grey.
He appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair still mussed from sleep, wearing a plain T-shirt and faded joggers. He looked... softer in the morning light. More human. Less haunted.
He walked toward me without a word, slipping behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, chin settling on my shoulder like it belonged there.
"You're up early," he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.
"I slept," I said, almost proudly.
He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my shoulder. "Good." He swayed slightly, like he'd fall asleep against me if I let him.
Then, without lifting his head, he mumbled, "Sophie, can we take a day off?"
I rolled my eyes, smiling into my coffee mug. "No."
He groaned dramatically, tightening his hold on me as if that might change my mind.
"Why not?" he complained. "We deserve one. Just one. The countryside cliff is calling us. You know... the one all couples go to for their special date?"
I turned my head slightly, smirking. "Oh, so now you want the couple experience?"
He nudged my cheek with his nose. "You're avoiding the question."
"It would be pretty cool," I admitted, "but I'm an heiress. My duty isn't exactly a flexible thing."
Grey sighed like I'd just ruined his entire week. "You're impossible."
"Maybe another time," I added softly.
His head lifted at that. "Another time?"
I nodded.
We both knew the place he meant.
The countryside cliff—known everywhere for its views, its silence, its way of making people feel small and free at the same time. A place where lovers went to breathe. To see the world from above instead of being crushed by it.
Grey had never been.
Neither had I.
"I want to see it with you," I said quietly. "If we survive long enough."
He chuckled, low and warm. "Then let's"
I smiled. "But until then..." Just as he opened his mouth to yawn, I plucked a grape from the bowl on the counter and shoved it into his mouth.
He froze.
I tried not to laugh.
He blinked slowly. "Did you just—"
"Well," I continued lightly, sipping my coffee, "heiress has duties."
He chewed the grape with the deadpan expression of a disappointed father. "You're lucky you're cute," he muttered.
"Oh, I know," I replied, shrugging.
He leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching me over the rim of the mug I'd handed him. His eyes softened the longer he stared at me, like he was memorizing the morning. Like he didn't want it to end.
"Grey," I teased, "stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm your entire world."
He raised a brow. "Aren't you?"
I choked on my coffee.
He tried not to laugh, but failed miserably, grinning as he reached over and wiped a drop from my chin.
We ended up talking about everything—work, breakfast, how Miranda would probably force us to eat something green, the countryside cliff again, and how Grey insisted he'd cry if it didn't live up to the hype.
The kitchen felt lighter that morning.
The world felt lighter.
I felt lighter.