The sunlight spilled softly through the curtains, golden and warm, painting the room in a quiet calm. Dinah stirred first, her body aching faintly from the mission the night before, but the warmth beside her kept her still for a moment.

Oliver was sprawled beside her, one arm draped over her waist, his face half-buried in the pillow. His hair was a mess, beard scruffy, and yet Dinah couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. He looked so at peace like this, so different from the sharp-eyed archer who never missed a shot.

Carefully, she shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to study him. She traced her fingers lightly over his chest, following the curve of scars and muscle, a quiet reminder of everything they’d fought through together. He stirred faintly but didn’t wake, only tightened his arm around her as though even in sleep he knew she was there.

Dinah leaned down and brushed a kiss to his temple, lingering there for a heartbeat. “You’re impossible, Queen,” she whispered, though there was only affection in her voice.

Oliver finally let out a sleepy groan, his eyes fluttering open. He squinted against the light, catching sight of her smile. “Morning already?” his voice was rough, low with sleep.

“Yeah,” she murmured, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “But you can sleep a little longer.”

He shook his head slightly, pulling her down against his chest with a lazy grin. “Not without you here.”

Dinah laughed softly, settling against him, her ear pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand slid up and down her back in slow, absentminded strokes, grounding her in the moment.

For once, there were no alarms, no calls, no emergencies pulling them away. Just the quiet morning, their breathing in sync, and the rare luxury of simply being together.