Catherine woke, as always, curled against Maximilian's chest.
Her fingers moved absentmindedly over his skin, tracing slow, lazy patterns, but her mind wasn't as calm as her body. Sleep had come, but not rest. Something lingered—uneasy, quiet, persistent—coiled deep in her chest, refusing to loosen its grip.
Maximilian felt it before she said anything.
"Is something bothering you?" he asked softly, his voice still thick with sleep.
She had been pushing herself for days—work, emotions, everything tangled together. Maybe it was finally catching up to her.
Catherine's gaze drifted to the bracelet on her wrist. Her fingers stilled.
"We've been together for a long time," she murmured.
"Mmm… a few weeks," he replied lazily, his lips curving. Compared to the years they had lost, it was nothing. "Already bored of me?" he teased.
"No," she said immediately.
His hand slid to her waist, warm and familiar, and she let out a small giggle despite herself.
