The Home That Lies

At the Motel— Caelen's Room

It was morning already as the sun rays streamed through the finely crafted wooden windows of the hotel room. Golden light spilled across the bed, warming the naked forms lying tangled beneath soft white blankets. Caelen lay in the middle, one arm draped over Veralia and the other over Reina. Both women clung to him like he was their anchor to reality.

Their breathing was soft, peaceful.

Caelen slowly blinked his eyes open, the ceiling above him blurry at first before sharpening into view. His silver hair fanned behind his head on the pillow as he stretched slightly. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, a faint remnant of last night's bath oils.

He looked left, then right.