Morning broke soft and gold over the villa. Celeste woke to find Damien’s arm draped across her hip, his breath steady against her shoulder. For a moment she just lay there, listening to the cicadas, the muted sound of the sea brushing the cliffs below.
She shifted carefully, turning enough to watch him sleep, the tiny lines at the corner of his eyes, the faint stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave off because, for once, they hadn’t needed to look perfect for anyone.
When he stirred, eyes blinking open, he found her smiling down at him.
“What?” he rasped, voice hoarse with sleep.
“You snore,” she lied.
He huffed a soft laugh and pulled her closer, burying his face against her neck. “Liar.”
She slipped out of bed not long after, wrapping herself in one of his old shirts, the tiny flame-
