We woke up close to noon.
The curtains were half drawn, sunlight slipping in lazily, resting on the walls and across the bed as it had nowhere else to be. My body felt heavy in a good way, the kind of tired that comes after rest, not stress. I stayed still for a moment, listening to the quiet of the house, the low hum of distant traffic, the calm that only comes when you know you have nowhere urgent to be.
Canna shifted beside me and exhaled slowly.
“Tell me I’m not the only one who forgot what time feels like,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.
I smiled without opening my eyes. “If you ask me what day it is, I might panic.”
He laughed softly. “Good. That means we actually rested.”
I turned toward him, studying his face in the daylight. He looked relaxed, different from the man wh
