AN: Y'ever have one of those moments where you feel the urge to type and just kinda go with the flow, seeing what happens along the way? Yeah, it's one of those :P

Morning Light

It's the sun that ends up awakening him.

Rean stirs from his blessed slumber when the bright rays pierce his eyelids, instinctively raising a hand to his face to shield himself from the break of day, and he stills when he hears the weak noise of protest that makes him glance down; he wasn't used to waking up with someone's warmth in his arms, wasn't used to his heart being set aflame by the light of dawn glinting off golden hair.

Alisa remains silent, her nose resting against his collarbone and her bangs loosely spread across her closed eyelids. Rean resists the urge to brush them away; it's an indulgence that can wait, really.

His idle fingers instead trace their way along the fabric of the sheets, stopping just before they reach her bare shoulders. The corners of his mouth turn upwards in wonder as he continues to drink in the sight, and the part of himself that he tries to keep sealed off – the part that's selfish, the part that wants – tantalizes him with images of what it might be like to wake up next to Alisa every morning. What it might be like to greet her with a smile before asking what they were going to do with the rest of their day, settling his cheek against her crown when she playfully suggests they stay in for a bit longer. What it might be like when their diverging paths finally cross and become one, just as he truly believes they will someday.

Of course he thinks about these things. How can he not?

His silent vigil continues unabated, and for the first time in forever he feels that the weight of the world is off his shoulders and the path before him is open and perfectly clear; it's almost as if he's seventeen and hopelessly in love, right down to his bones.

This was the happy acceptance of a stammered, hesitant apology. This was a hushed conversation under the night skies of Nord, whispering truths that were bathed in starlight. This was a first confession, a first kiss, a first… everything.

He relaxes into the mattress, and remembers.

"... You're still awake, Rean?"

"Yeah. Sorry, it's just… I can't seem to get to sleep."

Alisa had smiled at him, warm and bright, her palm tenderly cupping his face.

"You think too much. Rest, okay? Rest. I'll be right here when you wake up."

She had said nothing when he clung to her, her fingers sojourning through his dark hair; she was simply there, just like she always was, and maybe that was enough for Rean.

He watches and waits when she shifts within the warm cocoon of blankets, her peaceful slumber coming to an end, and when her eyelids finally open the first thing she sees is Rean greeting her with a quiet grin.

"Good morning, Alisa."

She's content to stare at him with sleepy eyes for a few moments, not a trace of embarrassment or bashfulness to be seen.

"… Morning."

"I know, it's still kind of early," he says, giving in and brushing the wayward strands out of her eyes. "That said, do you feel like getting a jump on the day, or…?"

She shakes her head and yawns before curling up closer to him, like a happy cat that's found a patch of sun. "Maybe in a little while. Let's stay here for a bit, okay?"

He nods before his cheek comes to rest atop her head, burying his nose within tresses of spun gold, and for all the what-ifs running through his head he at least doesn't have to wonder about this one, because now he knows.

"So," he thinks, his eyes drifting closed with soundless ecstasy. "This is what it's like. It feels like this."

(He dreams of forever. It's a beautiful word).