The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and gray, stretching across the unfamiliar hotel room in long, quiet lines. It didn't feel warm. It didn't feel comforting. It just existed, settling over everything without permission, exposing what the night had left behind.
Jay woke slowly.
His head felt heavy, a dull, constant ache pressing behind his eyes like something unfinished. His body carried that deep, dragging exhaustion that didn't come from rest but from too much alcohol and too little control. The sheets were tangled around his legs, twisted like they had been pulled and pushed without care, and the air in the room still held traces of last night. Sweat. Cologne. Something deeper that made his stomach tighten before his mind fully caught up.
He didn't move at first.
He just stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly, letting his awareness return piece by piece.
Then he turned his head.
Asher was beside him.
Still asleep.
