The next morning, I stir slowly, blinking against the soft light pouring in through the window. Outside, the faint murmur of voices drifts up from the street—vendors setting up their stalls, carts rattling by, someone laughing far off. It's warm already, the sunlight golden and sleepy as it spills across the wooden floor.
I breathe in.
Still early, I think. Maybe around eight. Maybe a little earlier.
I let myself lie there for a moment, just soaking in the quiet.
Another day in this strange, beautiful world.
Another morning with my catgirl girlfriend.
A smile tugs at my lips before I even open my eyes fully.
Last night… I didn't dream. Not even a flicker. But I'm not surprised. After everything—after the teasing, the kisses, the way she pulled me close again and again, the way we made love like ravenous beasts—I think my body just gave out. Slept like a log. Like the dead. And honestly? No regrets.
