Bangkok's morning light snuck in, slanting through cheap curtains and turning the room molten gold. Birds making some kind of racket outside—somewhere past the open window, you could hear city noise bubbling up. Not that any of it really mattered in here.
Kai woke up first. Not in one of those dramatic, gasping-sit-up kinds of ways. More like, eyelids cracking open at a snail's pace, finding his face smushed under Noah's chin. His arm looped around Noah's middle, their legs tangled like noodles under the sheets. Safe. Warm. Like maybe the world wasn't actually out to get him this morning. Imagine that.
He didn't move. Could've been hours. Just let it all soak in: the peace, the weirdly sweet smell of waking up in a room where someone actually gave a damn about you, the way silence felt softer when it was filled up with another person's breathing.
Noah stretched against him, mumbled something halfway between a question and a yawn. "You're awake?"
