Chapter 4: Morning Reverie

The faint glow of dawn seeped through the gaps in the curtain, casting long shadows across Calen’s modest room. He groaned as he turned over, the pounding in his head a cruel reminder of the night before. His mouth felt dry, his thoughts scattered.

As he blinked himself awake, the weight of the evening began to press down on him.

Beside him, Livra lay nestled in the rumpled sheets, her bare shoulders catching the faint morning light. Her long, black hair spilled across the pillow like a dark river, framing her face in a way that was almost too perfect. Her expression was serene, her breath steady, her presence both calming and disconcerting.

Calen’s chest tightened as he took it all in. He couldn’t ignore how beautiful she was. The curve of her lips, the slight rise and fall of her chest, the faint freckles that dusted her pale skin—it was as if the chaos of the world outside couldn’t touch her.

But then, like a dam breaking, the weight of guilt came flooding in.

What had he done?

He sat up slowly, careful not to wake her, and rubbed his face with both hands. His thoughts were a jumble of regrets and justifications.

Sienna.

Her name surfaced in his mind like a slap, unbidden and relentless. He could see her clearly, hear her voice. He wasn’t with her—at least, not officially—but that didn’t absolve him, did it? He knew how he felt about her. She wasn’t just another girl to him; she was the girl. He’d loved her for so long, waited so patiently for her to choose him, even when it seemed like she never would. And yet, here he was, tangled up with someone else.

The excuses started bubbling up, weak and hollow. Sienna doesn’t even want me. She’s made that clear. But they rang false. He wasn’t that guy—the kind of man who played fast and loose with his feelings, who sought comfort in someone else’s arms because things were complicated.

And yet, he wasn’t entirely unhappy either.

He stole another glance at Livra, her face peaceful in sleep. A quiet joy stirred in him, soft and unexpected. The way she had smiled at him, the way she had pulled him into her orbit with such ease—it had felt good. It had felt real. There was something intoxicating about her presence, something he couldn’t put into words.

He didn’t regret spending time with her; he regretted what it meant.

For a moment, he let himself just be. He leaned back against the headboard and watched her sleep, tracing the delicate lines of her face with his eyes. Her beauty was undeniable, but it wasn’t just that. There was something about her that made the room feel brighter, even in the quiet aftermath of a reckless night.

Livra stirred beside him, her lashes fluttering as she woke. A smile spread across her face as soon as her eyes met his, bright and disarming.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice warm and teasing. “Sleep well?”

Calen forced a smile, though his chest tightened at the sight of her. “Uh… yeah, I think so,” he replied awkwardly, “You?”

“Like a baby,” she said, stretching lazily and letting out a satisfied sigh. “Last night was… something else, huh?”

He nodded, the faintest flush rising to his cheeks. “It was.”

She propped herself up on one elbow, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder as she looked at him with a mix of mischief and curiosity. “You don’t remember much, do you?”

Calen hesitated. “I… bits and pieces. I remember the dancing, the drinks, the—” He cut himself off, unsure of how to finish the sentence without making things more awkward.

Livra laughed, a sound so genuine it made his unease falter. “Don’t worry, you weren’t that drunk. But you were adorable.”

“Adorable,” he repeated dryly, shaking his head.

“Yes!” she said with a grin. “And so inspiring, apparently. I hope you don’t mind… but while you were asleep, I drew something.”

Calen blinked at her, momentarily caught off guard. “You drew… something?”

“Mm-hm.” She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a small sketchbook. “You were lying there, half your face buried in the pillow, letting out these deep, dramatic sighs. I couldn’t resist.”

She flipped open the book and turned it toward him.

The sketch was simple yet stunning, capturing him in a moment of quiet vulnerability. His tousled hair fell over his forehead, and his expression, even in sleep, seemed to carry the weight of his thoughts. The lines were delicate, precise, imbued with a warmth that felt unmistakably hers.

Calen stared at it, a faint sense of awe stirring in him. “This is… really good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Livra beamed at the compliment. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard. “It’s amazing.”

Without thinking, he slid off the bed and crossed the room, tucking the sketch carefully between two books on the shelf.

Livra tilted her head, her smile fading into something softer, more uncertain. “Hiding it already?” she teased, though her tone carried a hint of genuine curiosity.

Calen hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “It’s just… I don’t want it to get damaged,” he lied, his gaze avoiding hers.

Before she could press further, the sharp sound of his comm device broke the moment. He grabbed it from the nightstand, the screen displaying Rion’s name.

“Hold on,” he said to Livra, pressing the device to his ear. “Rion? What’s up?”

His coworker’s voice was clipped, urgent. “Calen, we’ve got a situation. The lake discharge didn’t go as planned last night.”

Calen’s heart sank. “What do you mean? Didn’t it land in the Aelith Shore?”

“No,” Rion said, his tone heavy. “It veered off course—ended up over Fortuna Isles instead, Iskar Reaches and Calla Veil. The Overseer’s going ballistic. They’re saying it’s a massive calibration failure, and the fallout’s already starting. You need to get down here. Now.”

Calen cursed under his breath, his pulse quickening. “On my way.”

He ended the call and turned to Livra, who was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Work emergency,” he explained hastily, pulling on his clothes. “Something went wrong with the levicita balance during the discharge.”

Livra frowned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the sheet around her. “Is it serious?”

“Serious enough that they called me first thing,” Calen said, his movements quick and mechanical.

“Will I see you again?” she asked, her voice quiet but unwavering.

Calen paused, his gaze flicking to hers. “I… yeah. I’ll find you.”

Livra smiled, her expression soft yet somehow resolute. “You’d better.”

Without another word, Calen rushed out the door, the weight of both the hangover and the crisis ahead pressing down on his chest.