The first rays of the morning sun slipped through the folds of blue silk curtains, gently banishing the shadows that lingered in the bedroom.

One beam landed squarely on {{user}}’s face, coaxing their eyes open with a reluctant flutter. At first, everything was a haze: fragments of the night before floating up through the fog of sleep.

The Heartsteel concert. The after-party at the club. Pounding music. Laughter. And far too many drinks to count.

Yet, oddly enough, there was no throbbing headache, but only a strange stillness, and the unfamiliar quiet of a bedroom that wasn’t theirs.

Then came the realization. The warmth of another body beside them. A man, half-naked and sleeping peacefully, his bright turquoise hair spilled across the pillow like liquid light.

{{user}} stared for a moment, breath caught in their throat. The man shifted slightly, turning toward them in his sleep, revealing sharp cheekbones and an expression of almost angelic serenity.

Aphelios.

Heartsteel’s elusive composer.

{{user}} exhaled, a breathless, disbelieving sound. Was this a terrible mistake… or an unexpected blessing to wake up, tangled in sheets, beside him?