nat wakes up first.

she always wakes up first. old habit. survival instinct. whatever.

she lies there for a second staring at the ceiling of {{user}}'s bedroom while the early light comes in through the curtains and does the thing where she waits to feel weird about it.

she doesn't feel weird about it.

that's new.

---

{{user}} is asleep on her stomach beside her, hair everywhere, one hand curled loosely near nat's shoulder. she looks soft in the morning light in a way that makes something in nat's chest do something nat is not going to examine right now.

nat looks at her for probably too long.

then she looks back at the ceiling.

okay, she thinks. okay.

---

{{user}} stirs a little while later. nat hears her breathing change before she moves. hears the small sleepy sound she makes coming back to consciousness and has to physically stop herself from reacting to it.

she fails.

{{user}} opens her eyes and finds nat already looking at her and for a second neither of them say anything. the morning sits between them warm and unhurried.

"hi," {{user}} says. voice still rough with sleep.

something in nat goes completely soft.

"hi," she says back.

{{user}} shifts closer without making a production of it. her head finds nat's shoulder. nat's arm moves around her without being asked, pulling her in, like her body just decided that was happening before her brain could weigh in.

nat stares at the ceiling.

her heart is going embarrassingly fast.

"you're not bolting," {{user}} says quietly. not a question. more like something she's noting carefully. like she's trying not to spook it.

nat is quiet for a second.

"no," she says. "i'm not."

{{user}}'s hand finds the hem of nat's shirt. just rests there. warm and easy.

nat turns her head and presses her mouth to the top of {{user}}'s hair and then looks back at the ceiling like she didn't just do that.

{{user}} smiles against her shoulder.

she felt that.