Jora barely stirred when Sage kissed her head, her only response at first a soft, satisfied hum. She could’ve stayed like that forever—tangled up in each other, half-asleep, the quiet lull of the ocean wrapping around their little world.

Her heart did that familiar, gentle ache it always did when he spoke—like it could barely hold all of what she felt for him. It was raw and real and impossibly grounding.

“I love you too,” she whispered, voice rough and buried in the sheets, but warm with truth. She didn’t need to be fully awake to mean it.

She felt him shift eventually, heard the soft rustle of the covers and his quiet promise that he’d be right back. A smile tugged at her lips even before she opened her eyes. He could’ve stayed curled up with her all day and she would’ve been content, but of course he went and did something sweet instead.

By the time he came back, her eyes were open, hair tousled and wild across the pillow, but her expression soft and content. She sat up a little as he returned, watching him with that lazy adoration only early mornings and deep love brought.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured as he nestled beside her again, her smile crooked and full of affection. “Ridiculously thoughtful.”

She reached for a piece of fruit but paused, instead brushing her fingers against his cheek for a moment, just looking at him—undressed, unrushed, completely hers. “I still can’t believe I get to keep you,” she said quietly, like it was the kind of truth she still needed to say aloud to make it real.

And then, because they were both hungry, she added with a playful huff, “Alright, pass me some of that before I fall in love with you all over again and forget to eat.”

Jora shifted as he came in, propping herself up on one elbow so she could watch him—and like always, she did. Watched him like she couldn’t quite believe he was real either. The tray looked lovely, but it was Sage that caught her focus, especially as he slowed a little on his way back to her. That look on his face made her stomach flip all over again. Gods, they were such a mess, weren’t they?

But she loved it.

“Smart thinking,” she murmured as he pecked her cheek, lips twitching into a faint grin. “Though I wouldn’t mind you feeding me, if you’re trying to earn extra points.”

Her tone was teasing, of course—but there was a familiar fondness there too. That subtle warmth that only ever deepened when he was close, and vulnerable, and just hers.

She stilled a little at his next words, eyes softening. She didn’t laugh, not right away. Instead, she leaned forward, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “I’m never going to tire of you, Sage,” she said, quiet but firm. “I don’t care how long we’ve got… days, years, decades—whatever the stars give us, I’ll take it. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

Her gaze lingered on his, locking him there with her. “You’re not dreaming. You’re here. With me. This is real. You’re allowed to have it, even if it still feels like you’re stealing something.”

She didn’t press it more than that. They both knew what it meant. Instead, she gave him a crooked grin, one brow raising at his little quip.

“You’re exactly that distracting,” she snorted, pulling a bit of fruit from the tray and flicking it gently toward him, not caring whether or not it actually hit. “And don’t act like I kept you up all night without help. You didn’t exactly put up a fight.”

She smirked, then nudged his leg under the blankets. “But if you’re tired, I suppose I could take a nap on you. You know. Since you’re so cozy and all.” Her tone turned mock-thoughtful, though her grin gave her away.

She wanted to be close to him. Always.