The morning after the festival, Caroline awoke to Lucian, snoring softly beside her in the cramped bed. One of his long legs draped off the edge, touching the worn wooden planks of their room at the inn. She studied his face for a moment, with quiet surprise. On more than one occasion, she had questioned if the vampire, eyes closed peacefully before her, ever slept.
His skin was flawless; she noticed and almost appeared to be glowing in the morning sun's light creeping through the window. A small sigh escaped through her parted lips as her eyes traced the line of his sharp jaw and high cheekbones. Locks of typically tidy but now disheveled raven hair framed now-closed eyes that tilted slightly up at the corners. Even at rest, he looked devastatingly beautiful for a man. Well, a vampire, in this case, she thought.
