The first light of dawn crept over the mountain peaks like a painter's brush, stroking the sky with shades of rose and gold. The mist that had settled in the valley overnight began to lift, curling upward in lazy spirals, revealing the dark green of pine forests far below. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of snow and stone and the faint sweetness of wildflowers that grew in cracks of rock.
Alex woke slowly. The warmth of the fire had faded to embers, and the chill of the mountain morning pressed against the tent's fabric. Beside him, Saeko still slept, her hair spread across the pillow like spilled moonlight. Her face was soft in sleep, all the sharp edges smoothed away, and her breathing was slow and steady.
He did not move. He simply watched her, counting the rhythm of her breaths, memorizing the way her lashes rested against her cheeks, the faint curve of her lips. In sleep, she looked younger. Softer, cute is the most appropriate word.
