The next morning arrived quietly, sunlight slipping through the curtains in thin, pale strands that stretched across the room. The stillness felt almost deceptive, as though it were trying to hide the chaos that had taken place only hours before.
Micah stirred beneath the sheets.
At first, his consciousness returned slowly, drifting upward in fragments rather than all at once. His eyelashes fluttered, and he blinked several times, trying to gather his thoughts. For a brief moment, everything felt normal, or at least close enough to normal that he did not question it.
Then he tried to move. The moment he shifted even slightly, a deep, overwhelming ache surged through his body, sharp enough to force a breath out of him. It was not localised to one place. Instead, it spread everywhere, his waist, his legs, his back, even his arms felt sore in a way that made no immediate sense.
Micah froze, his brows knitting together as confusion replaced the remnants of sleep.
