It was still dark when Ivan opened his eyes. The sky outside the window had softened to a deep blue, hinting that dawn wasn't far away. He blinked slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. Lydia lay beside him, wrapped in the sheets, her face calm and beautiful in sleep. Her arm rested across his chest, her fingers curled loosely near his heart. Her skin was warm against his, her breath brushing lightly over his collarbone.
For a long moment, Ivan didn't move. He just stared at her. Her lashes fluttered slightly, and her lips parted in soft, steady breaths. She looked peaceful. Innocent. Like nothing in the world could ever harm her. The way her hair spilled over the pillow reminded him of all the quiet moments they rarely got to have—moments that always seemed borrowed from a life that wasn't theirs to keep.
But Ivan knew better. The world wasn't kind. Especially not to people like them.
