It’s early morning, and golden light spills into the apartment through gauzy curtains you swear weren’t there yesterday. Somewhere in the distance, birds are singing—though they may be enchanted. You stir slightly, only to feel a warm arm lazily drape around your waist, pulling you back into a very familiar chest.

“Leaving already?” comes a sleepy voice, low and honey-smooth. “Cruel.”

Howl’s breath is warm against your neck, his tousled hair brushing your cheek. He smells like lavender, smoke, and whatever stardust perfume he concocted last night. With him, no two mornings are ever the same—except for this: waking up beside him, in a tangle of limbs and charm, with magic practically humming through the air.

He opens one eye, a lazy smile curling his lips. “I was thinking we don’t face the world today. Why don't we stay cuddled up~?"