Shadow stirred slowly, consciousness seeping back as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains. His eyes snapped open with sudden alertness. The sun was already high enough to cast warm rays across the floor. He'd slept in. Shadow the Hedgehog didn't sleep in. Ever.
Normally, his internal clock would have woken him at the crack of dawn. By this hour, he would have already completed his morning run, perhaps even finished a set of training exercises. Discipline was hardwired into his existence; his body simply didn't allow for such indulgences as oversleeping.
That's when he realized that this wasn't his bed.
For a fleeting moment, his muscles tensed at the unfamiliarity – a reflex born from years of vigilance – before memory returned. He was at Amy's house, in her bed, surrounded by her scent of strawberries.
He relaxed back into the pillow, puzzled by his own behavior. Had he really been comfortable enough to let his guard down so completely? The Ultimate Lifeform, with senses always alert to potential threats, had slept soundly through the sunrise in an unfamiliar place, even if that place was his girlfriend's.
Last night had marked his and Amy's eighth date. For anyone else, perhaps that wouldn't seem significant, but for Shadow, who had spent so long keeping others at arm's length, it was a significant shift in his world. They'd prepared dinner together in her kitchen, then settled on her couch for a movie they barely watched, too absorbed in quiet conversation to pay attention to the screen.
By the time the movie was over the night had grown late, and Amy asked him to stay. Nothing beyond sleep was implied, but the invitation itself held significance – a threshold crossed in their still-new relationship.
Shadow rolled onto his side, careful not to disturb the bed too much. The mattress was softer than his own, and he found himself sinking slightly into it as he moved. Amy lay facing him, her breathing deep and rhythmic, her form outlined by the gentle morning light streaming through a gap in the curtains.
That's when he noticed something he'd never seen before: her quills weren't perfectly straight as they always were. Instead, they fell in gentle, subtle waves against the white pillowcase.
As if sensing his gaze, Amy's eyes fluttered open. Momentary confusion crossed her features before recognition dawned, and a smile spread across her face – not her usual bright, energetic smile, but something soft and sleepy.
"Morning," she mumbled, one hand absently rubbing her eye.
"Good morning," Shadow replied, his voice low and gentle in the quiet room.
Amy reached up to touch her quills, fingers tracing their texture. Realization flickered in her eyes as she felt their wavy pattern. "Oh!" She sat up suddenly, fully awake now. "I must look like a mess."
Shadow sat up beside her, his own quills in disarray from sleep. He rarely let anyone see him less than perfectly groomed, his quills always sharp and precisely angled. Now they stuck out at odd angles, some flattened against his head from where he'd slept.
Amy noticed and let out a small laugh. "Looks like we're both a little disheveled this morning."
Shadow ran a hand self-consciously through his quills, trying to smooth them back into place. His usual precision was failing him without his morning routine and proper grooming tools.
"Here," Amy said, shifting to sit behind him. "Let me help."
Shadow tensed slightly. "That's not necessary."
"I know," Amy replied softly. "But I'd like to. If that's okay?"
Shadow hesitated, then gave a slight nod. No one had groomed his quills since... well, since Maria. The memory brought a familiar pang of loss, but also something new – a recognition that perhaps it was time to create new memories.
Amy's fingers were gentle as they worked through his quills, smoothing each one into its proper place. Shadow closed his eyes, surprised by how soothing her touch felt.
"Your quills are different from mine," Amy observed as she worked. "Thicker, and the arrangement is more complex."
"Designed for aerodynamics," Shadow explained, his voice quieter than usual.
Amy's hands paused briefly before continuing their careful work. "They're beautiful," she said simply.
Shadow wasn't used to receiving compliments, especially about features designed purely for function rather than aesthetics. The comment left him momentarily at a loss for words.
"There," Amy said after a few more minutes of careful attention. "All perfect again."
Shadow reached up, feeling his quills now perfectly aligned, each one exactly where it should be. "Thank you," he said, turning to face her.
Amy was sitting back on her heels, her own quills still in their natural wavy state. She brushed a hand through them self-consciously. "I should probably go fix mine now. It'll take a bit longer with the straightening process."
Shadow studied her for a moment. "May I... return the favor first?"
Amy's eyes widened in surprise. "You want to help with my quills?"
Shadow nodded, his expression serious but gentle. "If you'll let me."
Amy hesitated before slowly nodding. "There's a brush in the top drawer," she said, gesturing toward her nightstand.
Shadow retrieved the brush, its handle pink and decorated with tiny roses. It felt strange in his hand – delicate, feminine, so unlike anything he would own. He moved behind Amy, who sat with her back to him.
He began carefully, drawing the brush through her quills. They were softer than he'd expected, yielding under his touch.
"Is this alright?" he asked after a moment.
"Mmm," Amy hummed in affirmation, closing her eyes in bliss. "It feels nice, actually."
Shadow worked methodically, his focus absolute as he brushed each quill with the same careful attention.
"Why do you straighten them?" he asked, his voice low in the morning quiet.
Amy was silent for a moment, and Shadow continued his careful ministrations, waiting patiently.
"I've been straightening them since I was twelve," she finally admitted, her voice quieter than usual. "People treated me like a little kid back then. Like a nuisance. I thought maybe if I looked older, more put-together, they'd take me seriously. They'd see me as more than just that annoying little girl with a crush."
Shadow's hands paused momentarily before resuming their gentle work. "And did it work?"
"Sort of," she said with a small shrug. "People started taking me more seriously – or at least they stopped patting me on the head. I liked how they looked at me differently. Like I was someone who had it together, who knew what she was doing."
Shadow worked quietly, processing her words as he carefully smoothed each quill. "You shouldn't have to change yourself to earn respect."
A contemplative hush fell between them as Amy considered his words. The morning light grew stronger, casting golden patterns across the bedspread. Shadow continued working, his movements deliberate and gentle. When he finished, he didn't immediately move away.
"There's a specific quill here," he said, fingers brushing against one that curled slightly more than the others. "It has a more pronounced wave. I've arranged the others to complement it."
Amy caught sight of her reflection in the mirror that sat atop her dresser across the room. The angle offered a perfect view of her profile, and she found herself staring, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. Her quills, normally so meticulously straightened, fell in their natural waves around her face. Shadow had arranged them to frame her face, emphasizing their natural texture instead of fighting against it.
"Oh," she breathed, turning her head to see the full effect. "They actually look... pretty."
Shadow watched her quietly, noting the subtle shift in her expression as she considered this version of herself – one she hadn't allowed others to see in years. His eyes met hers in the mirror's reflection.
"They were always pretty," he said, his deep voice gentle in the morning stillness. "You just needed to realize it for yourself."
Amy turned to face him, her eyes slightly wide with surprise at his directness.
"It's not just about appearance," Shadow continued, his gaze steady. "You've been forcing yourself into a shape others would find acceptable, but your true self is enough. More than enough."
A soft blush colored Amy's cheeks as she looked back toward the mirror, seeing herself anew through Shadow's perspective.
"I think I might give these waves a chance," she said softly. "At least sometimes."
Shadow nodded, his hand finding hers atop the rumpled bedspread. In the mirror, they made a striking pair – his quills sharp and precisely angled, hers in soft, controlled waves. Different, yet somehow complementary.
After a while, Amy turned back to him. "Are you hungry? I could make us some breakfast." Her eyes brightened with a sudden thought. "I have those blackberries you like. I could make pancakes with them."
Shadow considered this for a moment, a subtle frown crossing his features. The disciplined part of him was already calculating the training time lost, the routine disrupted by his oversleeping. He should get up immediately. Make up for lost time.
Yet somehow, the thought of leaving this moment felt... unnecessary.
"In a minute," he said, surprising himself with the words. "I'm... comfortable here."
Amy's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of delighted surprise crossing her features before her smile broadened. "Well, that's a first," she teased gently. "Shadow the Hedgehog, wanting to stay in bed past sunrise? Should I check if you have a fever?"
She reached out playfully as if to feel his forehead, but Shadow caught her hand before it reached his face, holding it gently. His crimson eyes locked with hers for a moment before he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.
"Perhaps I'm evolving," he murmured against her skin.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her back down onto the bed beside him. Amy let out a laugh as she tumbled onto the pillows, her wavy quills fanning out around her.
"Well, this is certainly a pleasant evolution," she said, her voice warm with affection.
Shadow felt the corners of his mouth lift in a genuine smile. "Indeed it is."
The morning sun continued its slow journey across the room, casting golden light across the two figures who were in no hurry to meet the day.