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Summary
Morning found Ballister with Ambrosius still spooned up behind him, a warm line against his back. Judging from the soft puffs of breath that he could feel against his nape, Ballister could only assume that the man was still sleeping; the gray light filtering through the curtains seemed to suggest that it was still early.
As knights, early mornings had been their norm, but now? Now, it was less important: they were still taking their time trying to figure out what to do with their lives after the fall of the Institute. Ballister could have easily drifted back off to sleep without a care in the world, but then Ambrosius was shifting, the arm slung over Ballister’s midsection tightening ever so slightly.