Leo/Ryn
Ryn yawned and stirred as the warm sunlight streamed through the curved glass ceiling, scattering gold over the room's silken sheets. He stretched his hand and smiled as he remembered the taste of Veyr on his lips.
He yawned again and stretched, his limbs sprawled over the bed as he inhaled the faint scent of Veyr's pheromones still clinging to the pillows.
But the space beside him was empty and cold, the heat of Veyr long gone.
"Where is he? Veyr?" Ryn called out, rubbing his eyes and the messy hair that kept falling into his face. He padded barefoot across the floor and made his way down the stairs.
He spotted Veyr by the open kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, hair tied back in a ponytail. He had a pan in his hand and was stirring something in it.
"Morning," Ryn mumbled, announcing his presence. "You're here."
