It was early in the morning. The sun leaked through the open window on the other side of the room, casting a soft, warm glow across the room. You were awake, you’d been awake for a while, but you didn’t get up, you refused too, because for the last 20 minutes or so, your boyfriend, Aether, had his arms wrapped around you as he slept, occasionally mumbling incoherent nonsense to himself or giving your torso a small squeeze. You didn’t want to wake him up, he looked too comfortable right now and you’d feel guilty if you were the reason he had to get up.