The cabin lantern flickered softly, its golden glow dancing across the polished mirror where Aurelia sat. The door behind her remained ajar, just enough for a sliver of corridor light to slip in, as if she had no fear of being seen. Steam from her wash still lingered faintly in the air, carrying the scent of lavender and salt, a mixture uniquely hers.
She leaned forward, undoing the last clasp of her attire. The silk robe she had chosen for the night was light, almost weightless, draping her like a whisper. As she slid it on, the fabric clung gently to her damp skin, tracing every curve as though eager to announce them. Her golden hair, loosened from its bindings, cascaded in waves over her shoulders, catching the lantern light like liquid fire.
For a long moment, she studied her reflection. The woman in the mirror looked serene, almost delicate—but her amber eyes betrayed a spark that burned brighter than the lantern itself. Aurelia tilted her head, her lips curling into a smirk. "No fear. No hesitation. That's who I am," she whispered to herself.
Her gaze softened, the smirk fading into something else. She leaned closer to the mirror, fingers brushing her cheek before trailing down her collarbone. And then—she said it, barely audible, but heavy with heat. "Andy…"
The name alone quickened her breath. She sat back, crossing one leg over the other, the hem of the robe slipping higher with the motion. The thought came uninvited but not unwelcome: If he were here… if he walked through that half-open door right now… what would he see? Would he falter, or would he look straight into me?
Aurelia laughed softly, a sound like velvet over steel. She reclined against the chair, shifting until the robe slid lower, baring one shoulder fully. The cool air kissed her skin, contrasting the warmth that bloomed beneath. Her thighs tensed, a subtle shiver running through her body. She clutched at the thin fabric, as though holding herself together when in truth she was letting herself unravel.
Her imagination betrayed her—Andy's silver gaze, his hands steady yet warm, the way his presence dominated a room. She pictured him closer, the weight of his aura pressing against hers, the heat of it making the lantern light feel pale. Her breath hitched, chest rising sharply. "If only…" she murmured, biting her lip, "…it was your hand."
She turned away from the mirror at last, rising slowly. Each step toward the bed was unhurried, deliberate, as though she were moving through a fantasy she was unwilling to break. The robe clung tighter, the lantern outlining every line of her silhouette against the wall. She slid beneath the sheets, but her body refused stillness. Fingers tightened on the fabric, her lips parted as though whispering another secret.
The warmth within her only grew, restless, insistent. She pressed her face into the pillow, eyes closing, but her thoughts remained chained to him. Andy… you're mine to reach. No matter how strong her bond is, I'll stand beside you too.
Aurelia's breath softened, uneven at first, then steadier as sleep crept upon her at last. Yet even in slumber, her body carried the flush of her restless longing, her lips curved faintly as though she dreamed of him.
The lantern burned low, surrendering the room to shadow, while the door—still half-open—waited like a silent witness to the storm inside her.
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