Nyssa wakes slowly, sunlight already spilling through the curtains, warm and soft against the sheets. She doesn’t move at first — just turns her head, taking in the quiet fact of Daisy still asleep beside her, lashes resting on her cheeks, breathing steady and unguarded. There’s something grounding about mornings like this, about being here before the world asks for anything from either of them. She shifts closer, careful at first, brushing her thumb lightly along Daisy’s arm. No reaction. Nyssa smiles to herself. “Hey,” she murmurs, voice still rough with sleep, deliberately gentle. When that still doesn’t work, she leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Daisy’s shoulder, then another — softer, slower. “Morning, sleepy.” Nyssa nudges her just enough to be annoying, not enough to be rude. “You know,” she adds, playful now, “if you don’t wake up soon, I’m stealing all the blankets and making coffee without you.”