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... of the window.

Outside, the breeze stirred the tall grass, birdsong filtering in like a quiet melody.

Inside the room, everything was still.

Billy stirred first, blinking against the hush of morning.

The blanket had slipped low on his waist, and the sun had already touched Artur’s shoulder beside him.

He turned his head, watching the rise and fall of Artur’s chest.

His features, usually guarded, looked gentler in sleep—softer around the mouth, lash ...

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