Wildfire

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, painting gentle streaks across Isla's face.

She stirred, her eyes fluttering open to find Theo sprawled beside her. No—the name felt strange yet undeniably right on her tongue. "Theo," she repeated, testing the sound. It felt both foreign and familiar.

His features, softened by sleep, brought a smile to her lips. She reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn't known was possible.

Theo stirred to her touch, meeting her gaze with a tenderness that took her breath away. "Good morning, Isla," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Good morning," Isla replied, warmth blooming into a radiant smile.

She felt a sense of belonging she'd never experienced before, certain that here beside him was exactly where she was supposed to be.