ILLICIT AFFAIRS | WLW

Daylight

The first light of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a soft, golden hue across the room. The warmth of the sun hadn't fully yet crept in, leaving the air cool, almost crisp, but the bed was warm – soft sheets cocooning two bodies that had moulded together during the night. The only sound was the rhythmic, quiet breathing of the two women.

Blair's body shifted first, waking in the kind of way that comes with being completely at peace, her mind still thick with the soft haze of dreams. For a moment, she remained still, her limbs heavy with the kind of warmth that only comes from the most restful of nights. Her eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light as she lifted her head just enough to take in her surroundings – the familiar scent of lavender and cedarwood, the soft rustle of sheets as she moved slightly, and the rhythmic sound of Catherine's breathing. It all made her feel so, incredibly, safe.

A small smile crept across her lips as she lay still, taking in the feeling of being securely wrapped in Catherine's embrace. Her head rested against the older woman's chest, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of Catherine's breathing, the soft, rhythmic pulse of life beneath her skin. Blair's arm was draped across Catherine's waist, their bodies fitting together in a way that felt effortless, natural, as if they had been made to lie beside one another like this.

For a long moment, Blair stayed like that, savouring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. She had woken up beside Thomas before—too many times, if she were honest with herself—but it had never felt like this. With Thomas, there had always been a sense of separation, even in the moments of physical closeness. It had been mechanical, expected, part of a routine that felt more performative than real. But this, here with Catherine, felt different. Every inch of their closeness carried weight, depth.

Blair shifted slightly, careful not to wake Catherine as she gently lifted her head. She propped herself up on her elbows, just enough to rest her chin on Catherine's chest, giving her a better view of the older woman's sleeping face. Catherine looked peaceful, the sharpness of her usual composure softened by the vulnerability of sleep. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, her dark curls spilling over the pillow in a tangle that was both messy and elegant.

Blair couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling as she admired Catherine's features. She had seen Catherine in so many different lights – strong, decisive, and endlessly captivating – but there was something so different, so intimate about this moment. A quiet sense of awe crept in. She never expected to feel like this, not with a woman. Especially with Catherine, who once seemed so untouchable. But here they were, tangled in each other's arms, in a bed that felt more like home than Blair had ever imagined. She wondered how Catherine felt. Was this just another night for her, something fleeting? Or did this mean something more?

Catherine had her own thoughts, though she hadn't yet opened her eyes. She was still teetering on the edge of sleep, aware of Blair's movements but not fully conscious. A part of her didn't want to wake up just yet, didn't want to lose the warmth of having Blair so close. Catherine had spent years keeping herself guarded, not letting anyone too close. Her life had always been compartmentalized—work, fleeting relationships, moments of pleasure that never breached the walls of her carefully curated world.

But Blair was different.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, Catherine had felt herself shifting, her usual boundaries blurring in ways that had both excited and terrified her. She had never planned to let Blair in like this, into the sanctuary of her home, her bed. But here they were, and it felt... right. Catherine wasn't one for sentimentality, but even she couldn't deny the sense of comfort that had settled into her chest the moment Blair had curled up beside her.

As if on cue, Blair shifted slightly, her movements gentle and slow. Catherine could feel the younger woman's gaze on her—soft, curious, and filled with something Catherine couldn't quite name but knew she craved more than she'd ever admit.