Dayo woke before the alarm as usual.
For a while, he did not move.
The room was still dim, the kind of early morning quiet that made even a busy city feel like it was holding its breath. Luna was asleep beside him, her hair scattered lightly over the pillow, one hand resting near their daughter's back. Their daughter lay between them, warm and small, her cheek pressed into the blanket as if the whole world had been made only for her comfort.
Dayo watched them for a few seconds longer than he intended.
Outside that room, everything was loud. Beautiful Things was still running through charts like it had no intention of slowing down. The physical-copy debate had turned into its own storm. His name was still being dragged through comparisons with Michael Jackson. The O2 idea was waiting for him before the day even began.
But inside the room, Luna breathed softly, and his daughter made a tiny sleeping sound that pulled a smile out of him before he could stop it.
