Noah woke before the sun did.
For a moment, he didn’t recognize the carved wooden ceiling above him, the warm quilt tucked up to his chin, or the faint ringing of temple bells carried by the chilly morning wind. Then he turned his head slightly—and all the pieces fell back into place.
Aarush’s ancestral home.
Himachal.
The mountains.
Safety.
Peace.
And then there was Aarush.
The other side of the large wooden bed was already empty, but the blankets were still warm. Noah reached out, palm brushing the indentation where Aarush had been sleeping just minutes before. He swallowed, his chest tightening with a gentle ache.
No matter how many nights he spent wrapped in Aarush’s scent, it still made him feel something he couldn’t fully explain—wanted, grounded, held.
Soft voices drifted
