Waking Up Never Felt So Good - Beginning of Issue 2

You wake with the sun already rising high, the unforgiving Zahiri heat beating down on your back. Your mouth is dry.

Your mother is still in your arms—curled into your chest, her breathing slow and steady, one leg tangled lazily with yours. Her presence is warm, grounding… intimate.

Last night lingers at the edges of your mind. Not everything is clear. Not everything needs to be. But you remember enough.

Enough to know things are different now.

Your fingers twitch slightly against her hip, and the movement stirs her. She hums softly, nuzzling closer, not bothering to open her eyes right away. You feel the rise and fall of her chest against yours, the way her hand finds your ribs like it belongs there.

Neither of you speaks at first. It’s too early for words. Too soon for the shape of consequences.

Finally, she opens her eyes, her voice quiet and raw. “You remember last night?”

You nod slowly, jaw clenched, staring past her into the blue void above you. “Hard to forget.”

She studies you for a moment, eyes searching your face with that same laser focus she’s always had in the field—except now, it’s turned on you. Not the commander. Not the soldier. Just her boy.

"I meant it," she says. Her voice doesn’t shake. “Everything I said. Everything I did. I don’t regret it.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting her gaze. She’s calm. Steady. But there’s something fragile under the surface.

“I thought maybe you’d… want to take it back,” you admit, your voice low, half-hoarse from dust. “That it was grief. Or guilt. Or... I don’t know.”

She shakes her head, hand brushing across your jaw. “What I had with your father was one life,” she says. “What I feel with you… is something else. Something I don’t think I’ll ever feel again. Not in this lifetime.”

Her words burn into you. You don’t speak right away. Because the truth is, you’re still unsure if this is love or trauma, lust or loneliness.

But you do know you don’t want to lose her.

So you lean in and kiss her. Not the way you did last night, but something quieter.

And she kisses you back.

Eventually, you both sit up, brushing dirt and sleep from your clothes and skin, already hearing the camp stir somewhere beyond the ridge. The weight of command returns. But not before she runs her hand one last time through your hair, with a look that says, you are mine.