Light seeped through the curtain edges, painting the room in warm, muted glow. The air stood still. Only the distant hum of a passing car broke the unhurried morning silence.
Semiel opened his eyes gradually—not moving, not wanting to disrupt the moment. Before him, Saval still slept. His breathing slow, even, his expression peaceful. Between his hands, Semiel's remained trapped, as if the night hadn't been enough to let go.
This is right. This is everything in place.
He didn't know when sharing sleep had become habit. Only that waking beside him now felt like enough.
Could get up. Make him breakfast. Know he likes when I surprise him with toast, eggs, tea... But—
He tried shifting his fingers slightly. Saval's grip stayed firm even in sleep—not tight, just enough to say don't go.
If I make noise... if he wakes... No. Better stay. Just a little longer.
He adjusted slightly, tilting his neck, closing his eyes again. But his mind stayed awake.
Is this a date? Are we there yet? Or just flowing? He kissed me. I kissed him. We sleep together. But does he want more today—going out, holding hands like yesterday? Or just staying here, quiet?
His thoughts circled gently—no anxiety, just curious calm. For the first time in years, he didn't feel like chasing something. He was exactly where he wanted to be. And yet, questions remained.
What if I ask? Suggest that movie, that café he always mentions? Don't have to plan everything. Can let it happen.
Saval murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, lips barely moving. Semiel watched with tender amusement, a private smile needing no audience.
How did we get here? From fights, silences, confusion... to this. This that feels fragile yet stronger than anything.
The light grew clearer. Morning deepened.
Semiel considered reaching up to brush Saval's hair, but hesitated. Something about just watching, memorizing this moment felt sacred.
Don't need anything more. Not now. Not if he stays. Not if he keeps sharing mornings with me.
Then, as if his body knew his soul's needs, Saval stirred. His arm—warm—draped gently across Semiel's chest. For a heartbeat, everything paused.
Semiel held his breath. Then, laughing softly under his breath, whispered:
—Hey...
Saval blinked slowly, eyes still heavy with sleep. Gazed at him without moving, expression caught between confusion and comfort.
—Mornin'...
His voice was rough, soft, vulnerable. Semiel didn't speak at first. Just leaned in slightly and kissed him—brief but brimming with everything he couldn't yet say aloud.
When they parted, Saval smiled, still half-asleep.
—Good way to wake up.
Semiel pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed.
—Had to make sure the day started right.
Saval didn't answer immediately. But his fingers tightened slightly around Semiel's. A silent promise. A yes spoken through skin.