When I open my eyes again, the room is brighter — sunlight spilling through the blinds in thin golden lines. The steady rhythm of the monitors fills the air, soft and familiar.

Calian's still asleep beside me. Not on top of me anymore — sometime while I dozed, he must've shifted back to his own bed, but he's turned toward me, arm tucked under his pillow, face peaceful. His hair's a mess, sticking up in every direction.

I smile sleepily. "Morning, sleepy warrior."

He stirs, mumbling something that sounds like, "Five more minutes," into his pillow.

I giggle, propping myself up on one elbow. "You're really living up to your name, you know that? Calian, the noble Warrior of Life, bravely defending his right to sleep in."

His eyes flick open, groggy and confused. "What?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, grinning. "Just admiring the mighty warrior's morning form."

He groans and pulls the blanket over his head. "You're impossible."

"I know," I sing-song. "But admit it—you love it."

A muffled sound comes from under the blanket. "Debatable."

I laugh, the sound echoing softly through the room. For a second, it's easy to forget the pain, the tubes, the machines. Just us.

The door opens then, and Yara steps in with her clipboard, bright-eyed and already in full nurse mode. "Good morning, my troublemakers!"

Calian immediately sits up, pretending he's been awake and civilized this entire time. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

"Morning, Yara," I chirp.

She gives me a knowing look. "You feeling any better today, Eli?"

"Yeah," I say. "My heart's still sore, but it's behaving for now."

"Good." She glances at Calian. "And you? Survive the night?"

He nods, rubbing his eyes. "Barely."

"Mm-hmm," Yara hums, already checking my vitals. "I heard there was some late-night chaos. You two want to tell me about it?"

I smile sheepishly. "There might've been some crying. And a little bit of a medical emergency. And possibly a cuddle."

Yara raises an eyebrow. "A cuddle."

Calian looks like he wants to disappear. "She was in pain," he mutters quickly.

Yara's expression softens instantly. "I know, honey. I'm teasing."

She finishes my vitals, satisfied when my numbers come out steadier than they were the night before. "Well, you both made it to morning. That's what matters."

I grin. "Told you we're unstoppable."

Yara smirks as she packs up her stethoscope. "Unstoppable and loud, yes."

As she leaves, I look back at Calian and grin. "See? Even Yara knows we're iconic."

He shakes his head, that tiny hidden smile returning. "You're something, alright."

I flop back onto my pillow, content. "That's me. Something."

🫀🫁

By the time we're both up and dressed, the halls are buzzing. Morning light filters through the long windows, turning the floors into gold. The smell of coffee and toast drifts faintly from the cafeteria downstairs.

Charlotte and Lily are already waiting just outside our door — Charlotte leaning against the wall in her wheelchair, hair in a messy bun, and Lily perched on her lap clutching her bunny.

"There they are!" Charlotte grins. "The dynamic duo of midnight chaos."

I gasp dramatically. "You heard about that?"

"Yara told everyone," she teases. "Apparently you almost gave her a heart attack."

"Rude of her to steal my thunder like that," I mutter.

Calian just sighs, walking behind me with his sketchbook under his arm. "You two talk too much this early."

Charlotte smirks. "And you talk too little."

"Balance," I say, linking my arm through hers. "That's what makes us work."

Lily giggles. "You sound like an old married couple."

Calian nearly trips over his own feet. "We're not—"

Charlotte and I dissolve into laughter before he can finish. The sound echoes down the hall, bright and alive. When we reach the elevator, I glance back at him. He's pretending not to smile, but his eyes give him away.

"You okay?" I ask softly as the doors close around us.

He nods. "Yeah. Just tired."

"Same," I say. "But tired and alive."

Charlotte hums. "Best combination."

The elevator dings open, and the familiar chaos of the cafeteria greets us — trays clattering, laughter, the comforting smell of something vaguely resembling pancakes.

We find our usual table near the window. The sunlight hits Lily's face just right, and she squints at it before whispering, "Maybe this is my second beautiful thing."

Charlotte smiles. "The sunlight?"

"No," Lily says, shaking her head. "Us. Sitting here. Together."

For a moment, none of us speak. The noise around us fades a little, like the world's pausing to listen.

Calian glances at me, and I see it — that small, quiet spark of something soft in his eyes. He doesn't need to say it. I already know.

I nudge his elbow and whisper, "Guess she found another one before we did."

He exhales a tiny laugh. "Yeah," he says quietly. "She really did."

And for a second, the cafeteria doesn't feel like a hospital at all. It feels like life.

The sunlight continues to spill all over the table like liquid gold, and Lily keeps making her orange juice glow by holding it up to the light.

Charlotte's slicing her pancakes into perfect little squares, Calian's quietly eating his oatmeal, and I — well, I start doing what I do best.

Yapping.

"So I was thinking," I start, waving my fork in the air, "what if swans don't actually mate for life? What if they're just really good at PR? Like, maybe they break up but keep it quiet to protect their brand."

Charlotte nearly snorts orange juice out of her nose. "Eliora, please."

"I'm just saying!" I laugh. "We don't know their lives! Maybe they have swan drama. Maybe one of them left to join the ducks and the other's like, 'no comment.'"

Calian pinches the bridge of his nose. "You've been awake too long."

"I just woke up," I remind him, dramatically offended. "This is my morning personality. You should be honored."

"Honored," he repeats flatly.

"Yes! You get the first scoop of my thoughts every morning. Like a breakfast buffet for your brain."

Charlotte leans her head in her hand, smiling. "How do you even think this much before 8 a.m.?"

"It's a gift," I say proudly.

Lily giggles, nibbling on her toast. "You sound like the radio! You just talk and talk and talk."

"I am the radio," I tell her, puffing out my chest. "And you, my lovely listener, are tuned into Eliora FM, featuring your favorite sleepy artist, Calian, and our special guest Charlotte who pretends she's above this but secretly loves the show."

Charlotte laughs. "I'm suing for slander."

Calian sighs into his spoon but his shoulders shake — the tiniest laugh hiding behind his silence.

I point my fork at him. "See? You do laugh. Admit it. You love me."

He looks up, totally deadpan. "That's a strong word for before coffee."

"Okay, fine. You like me."

He doesn't answer, just takes another spoonful of oatmeal — but I can see it. That little twitch at the corner of his mouth. The one that means yes, but he'll never say it out loud.

Charlotte catches it too and nudges me under the table. I grin triumphantly.

For a moment, it's just the four of us — laughing, eating, breathing. And I think maybe this is what Dr. Ren meant. Finding something beautiful doesn't always mean chasing it.

Sometimes it's right here, sitting across from you, pretending not to smile.