Mikhailis shifted slowly beneath the thick quilt, the linen brushing against his skin like water running down smooth stone. Every small movement still sent quiet aches whispering through his muscles, but at least now they felt bearable, more like faint echoes than the searing agony he'd known before. He drew in a careful breath, feeling the heaviness that clung stubbornly to his limbs. He let his eyes close for a brief moment, steeling himself, then opened them once more, determined.
His fingers curled gently around the edges of the sheets, gripping loosely as if hesitant to reveal whatever lay beneath. The pale, early morning sunlight slipped softly through the wooden shutters, painting delicate golden patterns across the room. Dust particles danced lazily in the beams, catching his eye momentarily, distracting him from the tension coiling gently in his chest.
