Morning came sluggishly, the sunlight seeping weakly through the blinds and illuminating the apartment in a dull, unflattering light. It wasn’t the golden warmth of the days before. Instead, it felt heavy, as though the world outside had followed us inside overnight.
I lay awake, tracing the curve of Mark’s shoulder with my fingertips, the familiar comfort of his body juxtaposed against the growing weight in my chest. Life outside these walls was relentless, and even in the safety of his apartment, I could feel it pressing against us. Bills, responsibilities, gossip, expectations—all of it waiting patiently to claw its way into our fragile little world.
Mark shifted beside me, stirring awake. His eyes opened, catching mine almost instantly. “Morning,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep
