The rain had finally stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the world soft and new. The streets glistened under the early sunlight, and the air held that cool, clean scent that only follows a storm.
Hannah woke slowly, the quiet of the morning wrapping around her like a blanket. The candle from the night before had burned down to wax and silence, the room painted in golden light. For a few still moments, she just lay there, listening to the rhythm of the world waking up outside — a dog barking in the distance, the low rumble of a truck passing on the wet road.
A knock came gently on the door.
"Come in," she called, her voice still soft from sleep.
Emma stepped in holding two paper cups from the café, her hair damp from the morning mist. "I brought coffee. The real kind. Not my terrible attempt at home brewing."
Hannah smiled, sitting up and pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," Emma said simply, crossing the room to hand her a cup. "Besides, I owed you for the tea and candlelight."
Hannah laughed quietly. "That was hardly a debt."
They both stood there for a moment, sipping in the comfortable quiet. The light caught on Emma's face — soft, warm, open — and Hannah felt something inside her chest ease.
"Sleep okay?" Emma asked gently.
"Better than I have in a while," Hannah said. "You?"
Emma nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Guess storms aren't so bad when you've got someone to sit through them with."
Hannah's eyes softened at that. "I'll remember that."
The quiet stretched, but it wasn't empty — it was full of everything unspoken between them, a calm certainty that had begun to feel like home.
Hannah finally glanced toward the window. "You want to walk to the café with me?"
"Of course," Emma said, grinning. "Wouldn't miss your first post-storm coffee rush."
Hannah laughed as they headed for the door, the morning light spilling across the floor behind them.
Outside, the town sparkled — puddles glimmering like mirrors, the air crisp with new beginnings.