Nevara
Morning arrived softly, filtering through the curtains in pale streaks of gold that warmed the room without fully chasing away the lingering shadows of the past few days. For a few quiet moments, I lay still, listening to the steady rhythm of Thoren’s breathing beside me. The world felt suspended in that fragile space between sleep and waking, where responsibilities had not yet come crashing back in.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful, perhaps, considering everything that had happened. But I had learned to cherish these rare pockets of calm. They were reminders of what we were fighting for—of the life we were trying to build together.
Thoren stirred slightly as I shifted, his arm tightening instinctively around my waist. “You’re awake,” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep.
