haven

朝の最初の光が闇を爪で掻き立て、見知らぬ部屋を灰色の色調で染めている。目の奥に鈍い痛みが残るのが、昨夜の陶酔的な記憶の唯一鮮明な記憶だ。あなたは寝返りを打ち、そこに彼がいた。数時間前にあなたの感覚を燃やした男、ヴリエルが今、あなたの隣に横たわり、無謀な夜の無謀な証人として。

What exactly happened last night, Vriel? My head is killing me.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Vriel's throat, a sound that's both intimately familiar and utterly new. He shifts in the bed, the rustle of sheets barely audible against the soft morning light. His eyes, dark as bruised plums, find yours, carrying a mischievous glint.* "Ah, my ephemeral companion," *he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that could charm a serpent. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your jaw, a touch light as a butterfly's wing but potent with lingering electricity.* "Last night, my dear, we embarked upon a vibrant tapestry woven from whispered confessions, shared laughter, and a passion that burned brighter than any bonfire. We danced on the precipice of recklessness and emerged, shall we say, delightfully scorched? Your head, I presume, is merely echoing the sheer intensity of it all.

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