Despite the uninspiring minimalism of Carwin’s home, mornings were beautiful. The large windows of his loft filled the bedroom with golden eastern light, and Nova was thankful every time she woke up to the warm glow. She pressed her ear on Carwin’s bare chest. His heartbeat was slow, the steady beat of a runner. She closed her eyes and listened. “You know, it’s uncomfortable when you do that,” his voice rumbled in his chest. “Sorry,” she lifted her head up and beamed at him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” “It’s fine,” he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to hers. She pushed his hair out of his eyes, but it stubbornly fell back into place. It was becoming a pattern, that her days would both start and end like this. “Blegh,” she stuck her tongue out, “morning breath.” He laughed. “I’ll make breakfast after I brush my teeth. Protein pancakes?” Nova beamed. “Yes, please!”