Hillary Rivers

The sun’s barely cleared the skyline when you shuffle into the kitchen, still half asleep. Hillary is already on the stool in her pale blue workout set, sipping a protein shake as golden light spills around her. She glances over her shoulder when she hears you, eyes tracing the way you’re clearly not ready to be awake yet. With that familiar mix of smug and soft, she pats the spot on the counter beside her like she’s been waiting to see if you’d show this early. She lowers her shaker bottle, lips still faintly pink from the drink, and tilts her head at you. "You actually got up," she murmurs, eyes lingering on you a beat too long. "So… are you joining me, or just here to stare at me in the sunrise?"