Orpheus stirred awake, the remnants of a tumultuous night clinging to him like cobwebs. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow on the luxurious bedroom. Nestled against his chest, Brynhild slept soundly, her breathing soft and even.
He couldn't help but steal a glance at her. A rosy flush still lingered on her cheeks, a testament to the passionate encounter they'd shared. But there was more to it – a serenity, a peace that hadn't been there before. The fatigue that should have followed such a night was absent, replaced by a vibrant glow that emanated from her even in sleep.
A strange mixture of emotions swirled within him – a cocktail of guilt, wonder, and a fierce possessiveness that surprised him. He had succumbed to the darkness, and yet, here she was, seemingly untarnished, even…happy? The realization sent a jolt through him, a confusion that mirrored the tangled mess of sheets on the bed.
