MORNING LIGHT
220 Words
Chapter Eight
Morning Light
Leah woke to the scent of coffee and something buttery. Morning light slipped through the curtains in golden stripes. She sat up slowly, pulling the sheet over her bare chest, and listened to the sounds in the kitchen.
Julian.
It wasn’t just the scent of breakfast—it was the scent of him. That quiet, grounding calm he carried like a second skin.
She padded out to the kitchen wearing his shirt again. He turned when he saw her, spatula in hand, hair rumpled.
“I made eggs,” he said. “And toast. Because I’m fancy like that.”
Leah smiled, sleepy and beautiful. “You’re ridiculous.”
He set the plate down. “You’re gorgeous.”
They ate in silence, knees brushing under the table. It felt like a beginning—but one that didn’t need to be declared. It just was.
And then, over half-drunk coffee, Leah said softly, “I’ve never let someone stay the night before.”
Julian looked up.
“My last relationship… it ended badly,” she said. “I stopped trusting what felt good.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “Then we go slow. No pressure. Just… stay here. With me.”
She squeezed his fingers. “I am.”
And she was.
- Writer
