The night had settled over them gently.
No storm followed, no sharp words lingering. Just a long, deep stillness that wrapped around them as they laid together beneath the blanket. Hriva's head rested on Jake's chest, her legs tangled with his. His arm remained curled around her shoulder like he was guarding something precious. Their breathing synced slowly over time, until the soft rhythm of it became a lullaby.
They didn't speak much after curling up.
They didn't need to.
Jake's fingers had moved lazily through her hair while she lay there, tucked close to his heart. Every now and then, she would shift to get more comfortable and he would instinctively pull her closer. When she turned her face toward his neck, he simply adjusted so she could breathe against his skin. Nothing about it was rushed or filled with expectation.
It was just... safe.
It felt like home.
Not the kind with walls or windows, but the kind that lived inside someone's arms.
When the sun crept in through the curtains the next morning, neither of them moved right away.
It was warm inside the cocoon of blankets, and the way Jake's chest rose beneath Hriva's cheek made her feel like the world was still paused. She smiled softly before opening her eyes, her cheek still pressed to him. The steady thump of his heart greeted her ears, unbothered, slow.
Jake stirred a little. His arm tightened slightly. Then he spoke, voice low and coated with sleep.
"You watching me sleep again?"
Hriva grinned into his skin. "Who says I was watching?"
"I can feel it," he said, voice heavier than usual. "You have stare energy."
She laughed, soft and light. "You have bedhead."
Jake lifted his hand and dragged it over his face, groaning. "Of course I do. This is what you've done to me. One cuddle session and I've surrendered my dignity."
Hriva pushed herself up slowly, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him with a mock-serious face. "To be fair, you surrendered your dignity when you snored softly into my hair at three in the morning."
Jake blinked. "That was affection. You're confusing tenderness with snoring."
She raised a brow. "So affection sounds like tiny lawnmowers?"
He narrowed his eyes and suddenly reached up to grab her waist, flipping her gently onto her back in one motion. She let out a small squeak of surprise and then burst into laughter.
"Take it back," he said, hovering over her.
"Never," she said, breathless.
Jake leaned closer, nose brushing against hers. "Say I'm charming."
"Nope."
He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, slow and teasing. Then did it again, this time pressing a small kiss there, soft as breath.
"Say I smell good," he continued, voice lazy and playful.
"You smell like sleep and stubbornness."
He grinned. "You're impossible."
Then, in one sudden move, he leaned in and gently nipped her nose with his teeth.
Hriva squealed. "Jake!"
He pulled back only enough to meet her eyes. "That's what you get."
She was laughing now, trying to push him off, but he only dropped beside her and dragged her back into his arms.
She laid there, flushed and warm, heart tapping against her ribs in a rhythm that wasn't entirely about playfulness anymore. She could feel the way he held her. Not like a possession. Not like a prize. But like a lifeline. Like she was something he had missed his whole life without knowing.
Her fingers drifted across his forearm. The room smelled faintly of lavender and something familiar she couldn't name yet. Maybe comfort. Maybe him.
They laid there in silence again, not quite ready to get up.
"You good?" Jake asked eventually, voice quieter now.
She nodded, her fingers tracing lazy shapes over his shirt.
"Yeah," she said. "I'm really good."
Jake shifted to look at her. His eyes searched hers for a moment, gentle but steady. "Even after last night?"
Hriva paused. Then nodded again, slower.
"I think last night… made us better."
He pressed a kiss into her hair. "I want to keep being better with you."
"You already are," she whispered.
They stayed like that for a long time. No rush to move. No reason to pull away. Just two bodies soaking in the kind of morning that didn't need plans. A lazy tangle of limbs and affection and quiet joy.
Eventually, her stomach growled.
Jake grinned against her forehead. "Is that you or the building collapsing?"
She buried her face in his chest. "I regret everything."
"Come on," he said, nudging her side. "Let's make pancakes."
"No flipping," she said quickly, pointing a warning finger at him.
He kissed it before standing up and pulling her with him. "Deal. But if any hit the ceiling, I'm blaming the pan."
She rolled her eyes but followed him into the kitchen, toes brushing the cold floor, laughter still in her chest. The fight was behind them now. The love was still here.
And the morning was theirs.