The first light of dawn crept through the sheer curtains of the guest room, casting a warm, golden glow over the quiet space. The soft chirping of birds outside accompanied the faint rustle of leaves in the morning breeze.
Matthew Hesh stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. For a moment, he was disoriented, his mind hazy from the depths of a dreamless sleep. As awareness returned, so did the memories of the previous night—a night that had been both unexpected and profound.
He turned his head slightly, and his breath caught at the sight beside him. Amber Fitzwilliam lay curled up next to him, her hair cascading over the pillow like a halo of spun gold. Her bare shoulder peeked out from beneath the quilt, the rest of her form hidden by its soft folds. Her expression was peaceful, her breathing slow and even.
