Morning came softer than usual.
⸻
No tension.
No weight pressing down on the room.
⸻
Just quiet.
⸻
Elara woke slowly, the events of the night before still lingering in her chest.
Not heavy.
Just… present.
⸻
Aaron’s words.
His past.
That boy in the storm.
⸻
She sat up, pulling the covers aside, her mind unusually still.
⸻
Something had shifted.
⸻
Not dramatically.
But enough that she could feel it in the way she breathed.
⸻
⸻
Downstairs—
Aaron was already up.
⸻
Coffee in hand.
Phone untouched.
⸻
That, in itself, was new.
⸻
He looked up as she walked in.
⸻
Their eyes met.
⸻
And for a moment—
Neither looked away.
⸻
“Morning,” he said.
⸻
“Morning,” she replied.
⸻
Simple.
⸻
But not distant.
⸻
She moved toward the counter, pouring herself a glass of
