DAMIEN'S POV
Thursday morning we stayed in bed until nine, no reason except that we could. The gallery didn't need Elara until eleven and I had nothing until an afternoon call with James. We'd both looked at our phones briefly at seven and put them back down by unspoken agreement.
The December light came through the curtains pale and thin.
She was on her side facing me, not quite asleep, the particular quality of someone between sleep and waking who has decided not to choose either yet.
I watched her.
The small line between her brows that appeared when she was thinking even when she was almost asleep. The way her breathing was slower than waking but not quite sleep slow. The specific way she held her hands under her face when she was lying on her side, both of them together, loose and
