Hugh was up first. Hugh was always up first. He took his coffee out to the little porch and sat, with a blanket tucked around him, watching the waves. It was the end of their honeymoon. Soon, they’d pack up, say goodbye to Will (who would cry, but try not to), and drive north. Truman would want to touch Will a lot. Will would turn into his skin like a flower to sunlight. He wasn’t surprised one of them found him. He was a little surprised it was Truman. “Good morning, my prince.” Hugh shifted the blanket to make room.