Chapter 51: The Truth About Mornings
The initial sensation I felt upon waking was warmth. Not only the warmth from the plush, opulent comforter but also from the individual next to me. Camille remained there, curled up against her pillow, breathing gently. Her hair, typically arranged in flawless waves or smoothly pulled back with ease, was a chaotic tangle over the sheets. A soft whisper slipped from her mouth as she clenched the pillow more firmly, her forehead fluttering as if she was dreaming.
I thought about waking her for a brief moment but chose not to. It was apparent that Camille wasn't particularly a morning person and she deserves some rest from time to time.
Ridding myself of the persistent sleepiness, I sat upright and extended my limbs. The unusual dimensions of the bedroom continued to surprise me. Everything around was streamlined, refined, and crafted for optimal comfort. I doubted that I would ever adapt to it.
I heard a slight rustle of activity coming from the kitchen. it was Sienna, obviously.
I slowly got out of bed, gave Camille one final look, and walked out of the room. The main living space, where the hardwood floors were bathed in golden morning sunlight, was accessible from the hallway. The hum of appliances already filled the kitchen.
I saw Sienna standing over the stove with her auburn hair pulled back into a loose bun. She was flipping what seemed to be protein pancakes. She wore an oversized sweatshirt with its sleeves stretched to her elbows. Despite this, her muscles were visibly defined and the air smelled of something buttery and coffee.
"Morning," I said, running a hand through my hair.
She turned, eyes lighting up. "Hey, Rey. Sleep okay?"
"Yeah. Bed's too comfortable." I sat at the kitchen island, watching her work. "You're up earlier than usual."
She shrugged, flipping a pancake. "Further commute now. Construction site's across town, so I have to drive instead of walking. Figured I'd get a head start."
"Ah. Makes sense." I accepted the mug of coffee she slid toward me, taking a sip. It was strong, slightly bitter — just how I liked it. "Where's Camille's breakfast?"