Morning Light (2)

The morning light, like Melt honey, seeped in through the cracks in the hotel windows, slowly and thickly covering the disheveled bedding.

In the light, tiny dust particles swirled silently.

Frieren stirred.

She was nestled in the soft embrace of the pillow and blankets, with only a wisp of silver hair and a small patch of smooth forehead showing. Her cheeks were rosy from sleep, and her long eyelashes cast two quiet shadows beneath her eyelids, which rose and fell very gently with her breath.

She was sleeping soundly, curled up in a completely defenseless, almost infantile position. One hand had somehow slipped out from under the covers, its five fingers loosely half-clenched, resting on the pillow, the fingertips a faint pink.

Lowell lay on his side facing her, one arm supporting her head, the other loosely wrapped around her waist. His eyes were closed, his breathing long and even, as if he too was still immersed in the afterglow of a dream.

The spot of light shifted a little further, landing precisely on the back of Frieren's exposed hand.

Slightly warm, slightly itchy.

"... Um."

A muffled, sleepy nasal sound came from deep within the covers.

Frieren's eyebrows furrowed slightly into an almost invisible knot, and her hand, which was resting on the pillow, instinctively pulled back, her fingertips curling into her palm, trying to avoid the disturbing light. But she only pulled back half an inch before lazily stopping, as if she wanted to conserve even the slightest effort.

She closed her eyes, burying her head deep into Lowell's neck, her forehead touching the curve of his collarbone. Her lips unconsciously pursed slightly, letting out a warm, indistinct breath.

"... Is it dawn?"

The voice was sticky and muggy, like maltose that wouldn't dissolve, with each word trailing off with a long, lingering tone.

Lowell didn't open his eyes, but tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He rubbed his chin against the top of her soft hair, causing a soft rustling sound.

"... Um."

He responded with a sound, his voice more awake than hers, but still carrying the characteristic hoarseness and languor of someone just waking up.

"Perhaps."

Frieren fell silent again.

She remained nestled in his arms, motionless, as if she had drifted back into sleep. Only the occasional, almost imperceptible tremor of her eyelashes betrayed her struggle between waking up and continuing to sleep.

There was silence for a long time.

"I don't want to get up."

She spoke in a muffled voice, her words muffled by the fabric of his shirt, sounding soft, a little whiny, and with a hint of self-righteous grievance.

Lowell then opened his eyes a crack. The morning light made him squint, adjust for a moment, and then lower his gaze to the silver-white head in his arms.

A slight upturn at the corner of his mouth gave him a smile that was a mixture of indulgence and "I knew it" in its tone.

"Then I'll sleep a little longer."

He said, his fingers unconsciously, gently combing her long hair that was scattered on his arm and the pillow. The hair was cool and smooth, like flowing water that couldn't be held.

"Anyway, nothing urgent happens today... Fern probably won't knock on the door this early; the month-long agreement hasn't been up yet."

Frieren seemed convinced by this reason, or perhaps she simply craved the warmth of the blankets and the comfort of his embrace. She gave a muffled "hmm" in response, her body completely relaxing as she nestled deeper into his arms.

The room returned to silence.

Only the faint, sporadic sounds of the market stalls beginning to set up outside the window, like the bubbling of bubbles coming from a distant underwater depths, intertwined with the two people's alternating, steady breathing.

An unknown amount of time passed.

Suddenly, Frieren moved closer to Lowell.

Then she slowly lifted her face from Lowell's embrace. Her emerald eyes were still covered with a thick layer of mist, wet and reflecting the dappled golden light filtering through the curtains. She looked at him, her gaze unfocused, filled with the bewilderment and sluggishness of someone just awakened.

Then, she opened her mouth and gave a small, delicate yawn.

"Haa..."

Tears welled up in her eyes instantly, hanging precariously on the tips of her eyelashes, making her look like a lost little animal, lost in thought in the morning dew.

Lowell looked at her like this, and a smile spread across his eyes. He raised the hand that wasn't under her head and gently wiped away the moisture from the corner of her eye with the pad of his thumb.

"Still half asleep?"

Frieren blinked, the mist in her eyes dissipating slightly, her gaze slowly clearing. She looked at his face, so close to hers, for a few seconds, then slowly, with a hint of confirmation, raised her hand and touched his cheek with her fingertips.

"Lowell." She called his name, her voice a little clearer than before, but still soft.

"Um."

Lowell.

"Yes, I'm here."

"Good morning," she said. After saying that, as if she had accomplished a very important task, she squinted her eyes contentedly, tilted her head, and rested her head back on his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against the crook of his neck, finding a more comfortable position.

"Good morning." Lowell lowered his head and placed a kiss on her hair, as light as a breath. "My Frieren."

"Mmm..." Frieren seemed to enjoy the kiss and the address, making a soft, almost gurgling sound in her throat. But after a few seconds, she remembered something and tilted her head back slightly.

Who's going grocery shopping today?

She asked, her emerald eyes looking at him, clearly displaying the words "I don't want to move."

Lowell's eyebrows twitched.

"Didn't we agree yesterday to play rock-paper-scissors, and the loser would go? Fern wants us to learn 'self-reliance'..."

"Yesterday is yesterday," Frieren matter-of-factly, her fingers unconsciously twirling a strand of his hair. "I forgot."

"You're cheating," Lowell called her out, but there was no hint of blame in his tone, only amusement.

"No," Frieren denied, her gaze drifting away for a moment before returning with a confident air. "I just took a nap; my memories need to be reloaded."

Lowell chuckled softly as he watched her earnest yet argumentative expression. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer, and affectionately nuzzled his nose against her forehead.

"Okay, Frieren wins. Memory refresh, huh? Let's update it now—I'm going to buy it today."

Frieren's eyes lit up instantly, like a cat that had stolen the biggest dried fish. But she tried hard to keep a straight face and maintain a calm demeanor, only for the corners of her mouth to involuntarily turn up, betraying her.

"Mmm-hmm." She nodded vigorously twice, expressing her strong approval of the "updated result." "Good."

"So, what would you like to eat?"

Mercury Pudding.

"Hmm... anything else?"

"Add lots of honey."

"Good."

"And drizzle with caramel."

"Good."

"And more..."

She thought for a moment, but couldn't think of anything else she wanted, so she stopped talking. Two seconds later, she suddenly smiled, her eyes curving into little crescents.

"Yes, and also, I need you to feed me."

"Good."

Then, as if she had completed a major transaction, she relaxed completely, nestled softly back into his arms, and lazily drew out her words:

"Then I'll sleep a little longer... just a little while."

"Go to sleep." Lowell lay back down, adjusting her position to make her more comfortable. "I'm here."

"Hmm..." Frieren responded vaguely, her eyelids already drooping. Just before her consciousness completely sank into sleep, she suddenly mumbled something again, as soft as a dream:

"... I like Lowell the most."

Lowell paused for a moment.

He didn't answer, but simply pulled her closer, making his embrace more secure and comfortable, gently resting his chin on the top of her head, and closed his eyes again.

The sounds of the city outside the window gradually grew louder, like the rising tide.

A new day, filled with the vibrant energy of everyday life, has officially begun.

But in this small, messy yet warm bed, time still flowed slowly. The warmth of their bodies embracing in the blankets, their intertwined breaths, and the unheard yet permeating responses created a tranquil space, isolated from the outside world, belonging only to the two of them.

The sunlight crept silently across the wooden floor, spilled over the edge of the bed, and finally gently enveloped the two figures embracing in a warm, honey-colored glow.

Then came the rhythmic, restrained knocking at the door, followed by Fern's clear, steady voice—

"Lady Frieren, Lady Lowell, it's time to rise..."

Her voice, outside the door, seemed to hit a soft, silent wall and abruptly stopped.

There was a moment of silence.

A very soft sigh came from outside the door, tinged with understanding and a faint smile, followed by footsteps that gently faded away, considerately leaving no further disturbance.

The morning light is just right.

The dream was just right.