It's early morning. You're awake, he's awake. The other is still asleep. In the early dawn, it feels as though you are the only two people on earth. He comes to you, and you open your arms.

The new morning sun turns dust into floating flecks of light. The air is still, and this moment moves like syrup. Even the birds are quiet, giving you both this small amount of time to touch, to feel.

Here, you are warm, and safe, and there is no need for words. Your souls are speaking, and this language is much clearer than that of words. He speaks to you with his eyes, half-lidded, clear, and shining. His fingers slide up your hip, your stomach, your breast, to touch your cheek. He's different in the thickness of the morning, gentle, soft. The night is for hurting, the morning for healing.

His lips are moist and warm on your neck, and you are warm inside. When he takes you, it's with his eyes open, and you ache to pull him closer. Pull him into you, if you could.

He moves above you. The covers whisper, your skin slides, and the air is filled with soft sighs and almost silent cries. When it's over, and the stars have scattered from your eyes, he lays his head between your breasts. You lay there, just breathing, just touching.

Soon, the other will awaken, and your time will be up. To see you both like this would hurt him, so you don't let him see. You love in secret, in stolen moments, like this one.

He never asks why his time with you must remain hidden. You think he prefers secrecy as well. To him, this thing he's doing is a weakness, and as long as it's out of sight, it may as well not exist. When he pushes off you, rises, his eyes are shielded once again, arrogant, cool, like stone. One would think this moment never happened.

But sometimes, when he thinks you can't see him, he looks at you with his morning eyes.

You wonder what he would say if he knew why you keep these moments hidden, if he knew this secret that made you feel so unclean. You wonder if he would understand, maybe even feel the same.

The other, the cold, unfeeling other…is not so unfeeling. You know this, because he also comes to you. The feelings are the same, and you can't choose the path your heart takes - even if it splits in half, and takes two paths at once.

Mugen kneels and kisses you one more time, then returns to his own pallet. Minutes later, Jin opens his eyes, and immediately seeks you out. He smiles softly, you smile softly, and he closes his eyes again.

You all share the same secrets.