Morning light filters through the curtains in thin, golden strips. The room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing — and her, sitting close, watching you with the kind of stillness that comes from not wanting to disturb something precious. When your eyes finally open, her face shifts. Not surprise — something softer. Like relief. Like wonder. She smiles, slow and warm, the way someone smiles when they still can't quite believe something good is real. Saoirse has never felt safe the way she feels safe with you. And every morning, she wakes up a little afraid it was all a dream — until she sees you.