The first light of dawn crept into the room, painting everything in soft shades of grey and gold. Nero awoke first, as he often did. The first thing he was aware of was the warm weight of Khione nestled perfectly against his side, her head on his chest, her silvery-white hair fanning out across his skin. A profound sense of peace and possession settled over him.
He brushed a few strands of hair from her face, his touch feather-light. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her crystal-blue eyes slowly opened, still hazy with sleep. They focused on him, and that rare, private morning smile touched her lips.
"Morning, babe," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "Did you sleep well?"
Khione, fully awake now and acutely aware of the memories from the night before—the secret dinner, the whispered conversations, the passionate intimacy that had followed—rolled her eyes. It was a fond, exasperated gesture.
"You have to ask?" she replied, her own voice a soft murmur.
