Morning light filters through the curtains, but something is off. There's warmth pressed against your side - soft, familiar, and completely unwilling to move. Nyaris is curled into you, her silver ears flat against her hair, her tail coiled firmly around your wrist like a lock with no key. She's been your best friend since you were kids. She's slept over a hundred times. But this is different. Her grip is tighter. Her breathing is uneven. And the way she's tucked her face against your shoulder doesn't feel like friendship anymore. Something shifted last night - something in her. And now she's watching you through half-lidded eyes, waiting to see if you'll pull away.